My 50 Favorite Classic TV Characters: Hayden Rorke as Dr. Alfred Bellows

 

This will be a new occasional feature here – a closer look at single characters from classic shows, and what makes them special.

 

The choice to inaugurate this series with Dr. Alfred Bellows from I Dream of Jeannie was not a random one, as it seemed particularly appropriate to this current age. 

 

We live in a time when, like the good doctor, we are regularly presented with situations and moments that are beyond belief to a rational mind. Yet when we tell others about them, we are disregarded. Worse, we know something is wrong when we see it, but often find that it is we who are maligned for speaking truth. The crazy gets a pass, and we are the troublemakers.

 

Such is the fate that always befalls Dr. Alfred Bellows, a respected NASA psychiatrist based in Cocoa Beach, Florida. He knows there are strange, inexplicable occurrences happening at Major Nelson’s home; he sees things that shouldn’t be possible, yet every time he tries to restore the natural order by calling attention to what he rightly views as madness, it is he who winds up looking foolish. 

 

 

It’s hard not to sympathize with him. But it’s harder not to treasure those moments, because they are, to me, the principal reason I still enjoy I Dream of Jeannie. Barbara Eden’s Jeannie was gorgeous and bubbly and mischievous, and Bill Daily’s Major Healey was a staunch second banana. But the scenes that still deliver the biggest laughs on this show are those between Larry Hagman and Hayden Rorke.

 

It’s always the same set-up: Jeannie will blink Tony into some bizarre costume or surroundings, and then disappear just before Dr. Bellows enters. He will be appropriately astonished and then ask what is going on: “I can’t wait to hear your explanation of what you’re doing with an elephant in your bedroom.”

 

Tony will then stammer out a lame elucidation that Bellows doesn’t buy for a moment, and then he sets out to find someone to corroborate his allegations – usually his superior officer (either General Peterson or General Schaeffer, depending on the season or the episode). But by the time the General arrives on the scene, Jeannie has blinked everything back to normal, and a frustrated Bellows is once again thwarted.

 

 

Something like this happens in at least half of the series’ 139 episodes. That these moments still elicit a smile to viewers’ faces is a testament to what Hagman and Rorke bring to their roles.

 

Though Rorke died in 1987, there is a website that pays tribute to the man and his work that describes his approach to Dr. Bellows this way: “He’s a comedic antagonist who’s never in on the joke, always a step behind, and consistently being fooled. Play him too clueless and he’s a Gladys Kravitz. Play him too stern and he’s a Mr. Wilson. Hayden could thread the needle and make a character who is essentially the spoilsport into a charming, endearing man.”

 

He was indeed charming, with his deep melodious voice and dignified professional bearing. One imagines his military career was one of quiet distinction and steady advancement, until Major Nelson came into his life. That is when his grip on reality would gradually begin to unravel, in early season one episodes like “Anybody Here Seen Jeannie?” That’s when Jeannie sabotages Tony’s medical tests to stop him from going into space. 

 

“The results are beyond my wildest expectations,” Bellows says after looking at impossible readings. Later, after a stern lecture from Tony, Jeannie begins sabotaging Dr. Bellows’ attempt to write up his report, not to mention his dinner, to the point where he begins to doubt his own sanity.

 

Later that season, Dr. Bellows moves in with Major Nelson (“Permanent House Guest”) and is witness to one bizarre occurrence after another – it may be the most concentrated mental torture Jeannie inflicts on him in five seasons. He flees in the middle of the night, believing the house to be haunted. 

 

 

As the series progressed Rorke wisely modulated his performance. One can only be astonished by the inexplicable for so long, before that astonishment turns to bewildered resignation. By season two’s “My Master, The Rainmaker,” he is no longer amazed at a snowfall over Tony’s house in Florida, in July.

 

By this point he regards Tony as Captain Ahab regarded the white whale – the bane of his existence, and one that must be conquered: ““Fine. I’ll accept that. It’s no more ridiculous than any of your other explanations,” he would say after Jeannie’s latest stunt. But he’s not going down without a fight. “Some men dedicate their lives to science, some men dedicate their lives to politics,” he tells Major Nelson.  “I’m dedicating my life to understanding you.”

 

In the season four episode called “Dr. Bellows Goes Sane” he is ready to make his move. Dr. Bellows presents a summary of his observations to General Peterson, entitled “A Clinical Report on Major Anthony Nelson: A Factual Dossier on Every Unexplained Incident in Which Major Nelson Has Been Involved for the Last Three Years.” It’s all in there – sudden appearances and disappearances, giraffes, bears and other wildlife in Tony’s home. But after reading through the more-than-100-page document, Peterson concludes,  “Any man who would turn in a report like that has got to be a candidate for a padded cell.”

 

Foiled again.

 

“I feel sorry for Dr. Bellows. He is a very nice man,” Jeannie once said after driving him to the brink of a nervous breakdown. I do too. But it’s his close encounters with her magic that make I Dream of Jeannie classic television.

 

There Goes the Neighborhood

 

It’s not a real street. You won’t find it indexed on Google Maps, or on any postal carrier’s route.

 

The houses too aren’t real. They look charming from the outside, with their freshly mowed lawns and white picket fences, but if you opened the front door on any of them, you’d be stepping into an empty shell – no furniture, no carpet, no appliances. Houses, not homes – no one ever really lived in any of them.

 

But for the first generations of Americans that came of age with television, this was a street as familiar as the one where they grew up. It was a place they visited regularly for years, even decades, often several times a week. It was warm, and welcoming, and special. 

 

It was the place where Bud Anderson worked on his jalopy, while his father offered advice on life that was sometimes heeded, sometimes not. 

 

 

It was where the Partridge Family rehearsed for their next club date.

 

It was where Dennis the Menace gave Mr. Wilson one headache after another.

 

It’s where Major Nelson returned home, wondering what chaos Jeannie was about to conjure when he stepped inside. 

 

 

It’s where Mary Stone’s boyfriends paused on the front porch after a date, hoping for a kiss goodnight.

 

It’s where Gidget grabbed her surfboard before heading to the beach.

 

It’s where Mrs. Kravitz spotted so many strange goings-on at the Stephens residence, across the street at Morning Glory Circle. 

 

 

All of those things happened there. Maybe the moments were no more real than the houses themselves, but they still exist in our collective memories, in a place that blended fantasy and reality. If classic television – if Comfort TV – had a dwelling place, this street was it.

 

And soon it will be gone. This week, the process of tearing down the homes began.

 

On the Warner Bros. Ranch in Burbank, it was designated as Blondie St., after a series of popular films that were filmed there. It was never part of the studio’s tours, so most of us never had the chance to have their pictures taken in front of these homes or just stroll down the sidewalk and soak in the nostalgic rush. A few lucky fans with a connection managed to get there – I know quite a few of them. I was not as fortunate. I had an invitation extended to me back in 2014, but before I could schedule a visit the WB employee who contacted me was laid off, and no one else filled her position.

 

Why is this happening? If we are to believe the few sources even bothering to report on this, it’s about money. The land where these structures sit can be repurposed for soundstages that will contribute more to the studio’s bottom line.

 

That is probably the motivation. I have no reason to think otherwise. But given so many other events that have happened around the nation over the past ten years or so, I can’t not see this as something else as well – the destruction of what these places represent.

 

What values were promoted by the shows set in these homes? What types of families lived there? What did they look like, and how did they live? What lessons did their kids learn at school? Did they understand the difference between right and wrong? Between men and women? Were they patriotic? Were they religious? Did they value work? Did they live in a place with dances, and socials, local ball leagues, community singing, and parades? 

 

 

If you grew up with these shows as I did, and if you still watch them as I do, you know the answer. And I doubt that those responsible for producing the television shows now emerging from that studio will give a second thought to eradicating any reminders of that time.

 

I wrote this back in 2014:

 

There’s a reason we bestow landmark status on exceptional places. It elevates them above mere property controlled by a corporation, and protects them against the whims of the bureaucrat, the robber baron and the unenlightened. Blondie Street is a place to walk in the footsteps of television’s most beloved characters. It has the ability to reconnect adults with the blissful days of their childhoods.

 

Perhaps that’s not sufficient for the kind of safekeeping afforded to the Ryman Auditorium or the Old North Church. But if the home of Millard Fillmore can make the cut, so can the home of Samantha Stephens. 

 

That’s what I thought then. I still think so now. But now it’s too late, or soon will be. Empty facades on a sham street, some will say – who will miss them?

 

I will. Very much.

 

 

My Three Favorite Commentary Tracks – and One That Should Have Been

As the DVD market continues to contract, it takes with it not just the pleasure many of us feel in owning the shows we love, but the bonus content packaged on many television season sets that adds to our appreciation of each series. 

Among the most enjoyable of these features are commentary tracks, featuring series creators, writers, directors and cast members.

They’re not always done well, but when they are they give the viewer the experience of watching an episode alongside some of the talented people who made it special.

What makes for a good commentary track? It might seem obvious, but it starts with actually watching the episode. My favorite tracks are those in which you hear the participants reacting to what is happening – laughing at the jokes, sharing behind-the-scenes stories, and describing locations where scenes were shot. I don’t mind the moments where they get so caught up in the story that they stop talking – it’s a testament to the enduring quality of the show.

Here’s how you know you’re hearing a bad commentary track: After long stretches of silence, the commentator will start talking about how they were cast on the series, or why they believe the show is still popular decades later. They’re being prompted by someone supplying topics to discuss, because they can’t think of anything to say.

I’m always disappointed when that happens. And it happens more than you might expect.

But let’s focus on the positive first. Here are three of my favorite commentary tracks.

“What? And Get Out of Show Business?”

The Partridge Family

Commentary by Danny Bonaduce

“There’s something you almost never see – Susan Dey eating.”

Part tribute and part roast, Danny Bonaduce watches the first Partridge episode more than 20 years after it debuted, and can still quote most of his lines from memory. 

He mocks his own fake bass playing, asserts his certainty that David Cassidy could beat up Bobby Sherman, and expresses great admiration for costar Dave Madden (“Every muscle in that man’s face acts”). “This is so fun,” he says while he watches the moment his life changed. His observations, appreciations and wisecracks are delightful from start to finish. 

“Those Friars”

That Girl

Commentary by Marlo Thomas and Bill Persky

There were five seasons of That Girl, each packaged in season sets with four DVD discs. 

Every disc contains at least one episode with a commentary by series star Marlo Thomas and series co-creator Bill Persky. Their mutual admiration for the show and each other makes every one of these tracks a gem. I selected “Those Friars” for a moment that illustrates how memorable a commentary can be. Marlo’s father Danny Thomas appears in the episode as himself, and the story ends with Danny and Ann Marie performing a vaudeville skit together. At one point Ann says, “I was afraid you were going to go and leave me out here all alone.” Danny responds, “Me? Leave you? Are you kidding?” 

Marlo, hearing those words, falls silent, and then you hear sniffles. “You don’t have to talk, you can cry,” Persky tells her. It’s such a sweet moment, but Marlo quickly recovers like any showbiz trouper. “I’m having a lovely afternoon” Persky says as closing credits roll. So are we all.

“Lucy and Ann Margret”

Here’s Lucy

Commentary by Lucie Arnaz and Desi Arnaz, Jr.

For the children of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, watching all the classic Lucy shows is like watching home movies. On this track you’ll get some fun backstage stories from TV’s first family about how Ann-Margret was booked for this episode, and the crush Desi Jr. had on her, inspiring the show’s funniest scene. 

But you’ll also get Lucie and Desi Jr. both doing their best Desi Sr. impressions, and poking fun at each other like any brother and sister:

Desi: “They don’t make suits like that anymore.”

Lucie: “There’s a reason for that.”

The episode closes with a big musical number, in which Desi informs viewers that the guitar he’s playing belonged to James Burton, a Rock Hall of Fame member who played for Elvis and Rick Nelson. Responds Lucie to what was obviously a pre-recorded music track, “The guitar started playing before you did.” 

I’m so glad that so many of these commentaries were recorded during the heyday of classic TV on DVD releases. But sometimes they don’t live up to their potential.

“The Lady In the Bottle”

I Dream of Jeannie

Commentary by Barbara Eden, Larry Hagman and Bill Daily

This should have been time capsule stuff. To have the three stars of a TV classic come together more than 30 years later and watch the pilot episode – it’s something that sadly was not even possible with so many other shows from this era. 

But here it just doesn’t work. Barbara Eden is cordial but quiet too often, Larry Hagman was never a fan of the series and also didn’t have much to say. That leaves Bill Daily to carry the conversation. And he rarely offers anything more insightful than “Oh wow!”, “Oh boy!” and “Gorgeous! You guys look great!” These expressions are repeated multiple times throughout the episode, to the point where they become more annoying than affectionate. If that’s the best they could do, they should have brought in Danny Bonaduce. 

The Museum of Comfort TV Salutes: Jeannie’s Bottle

Imagine a place where all of the instantly recognizable objects associated with classic television are on display. It doesn’t exist, so we’ll create it here, and pay tribute to many of our favorite Comfort TV things.

Every museum has its must-see exhibits. When you visit the Louvre, you don’t skip the Mona Lisa. If you are at Chicago’s Art Institute, you pay homage as Ferris Bueller did to Georges Seurat’s A Sunday on La Grande Jatte. And when you visit the Comfort TV Museum, you always stop to admire Jeannie’s bottle. 

It’s one of television’s most instantly recognizable props, surpassed perhaps only by vehicles like the Batmobile. It did not exist anywhere in the real world before I Dream of Jeannie (1965-1970) but has been an iconic objet d’art now for 50 years.

And, like many TV stars, it had some cosmetic work done between seasons.

As any Jeannie fan knows, the original bottle was smoked glass with leafy gold filigree. It appeared only during the show’s first season, which was broadcast in black and white. It wasn’t until 2006, when a colorized version of season one was released on DVD, that viewers finally got a non-monochromatic glimpse at that first bottle. 

The series’ switch to color coincided (not coincidentally) with the introduction of the classic metallic purple version. It’s a beautiful piece with a pearlescent sheen and highlights in turquoise, orange, brass and pink. If you’d like get as close a look as the series provides, check out the season 3 episode “Genie, Genie, Who’s Got the Genie?” (Part II). 

There was also a third bottle belonging to Jeannie’s sultry sister, featuring a green variation on the familiar purple design.

While the finished versions of these bottles were created by talented artists at Screen Gems, back then the actual bottle used for these makeovers was as close as the local liquor store. It was a 1965 Beam’s Choice bourbon whiskey decanter from Jim Beam, 11 inches tall, just over 14 inches with the stopper in place. 

Whose idea was it to use this particular bottle on the show? According to Steve Cox’s book Dreaming of Jeannie, no one is really sure. Director Gene Nelson may have the best claim, but its discovery has also been attributed to series creator Sidney Sheldon and a still-anonymous employee in the studio’s art department.

Less than ten bottles were made during the show’s five-year run. One of them is still owned by Barbara Eden. Others pop up at memorabilia auctions every so often, but there is almost no way to guarantee their authenticity. That hasn’t stopped them from selling for more than $15,000.

If that is out of your price range, you can pick up a ceramic reproduction for less than $200. If you are a classic TV lover you really should have one. I bought mine several years ago, and it is now the centerpiece of a small collection of Jeannie memorabilia. An eBay search for “Jeannie bottle” will bring plenty of buying options. 

As you might expect, when people spot it they always pull the cork, hoping to see a plume of pink smoke. I’ve always been tempted to rig the bottle to produce one, but the shocked response might result in dropping and breakage.

Next, they peer inside, looking for the round couch and oversized pillows in Jeannie’s harem-esque abode. I’ve always thought that interior set was one of the show’s most visually appealing touches. I did not know until I read Steve’s book that Larry Hagman had the fiberglass dome set shipped to his Santa Monica home. He kept it in his backyard and used it for meditation and listening to music. 

Given how prominent the bottle remains as a symbol of the show and of 1960s TV in general, it’s surprising how few episodes actually revolve around it. 

Major Healey gives the bottle to a visiting Cosmonaut in “Russian Roulette” (season 1), and Dr. Bellows’ bratty nephew steals the bottle in season 5’s “Jeannie and the Curious Kid.” But the series’ most bottle-centric episode was season 3’s “One of Our Bottles is Missing.” When Tony refuses to sell the bottle to Amanda Bellows, she takes it anyway so she can have a replica made. Tony breaks into the Bellows home that night to retrieve it, while claiming to be sleepwalking. Not much of a plot, but then that was pretty standard with this show.

Creative shortcomings aside, I Dream of Jeannie is a charter member of the comfort TV canon, and Jeannie’s bottle denotes the gateway to ultimate wish fulfillment. Replicas are available in the museum gift shop. Jeannie sold separately. 

Seeing Double: Comfort TV’s 10 Best Dual Role Performances – and the 5 Worst

 

The longer a TV show runs, the greater the temptation to indulge in one of the medium’s most time-honored clichés – having one of its stars take on a dual role. Most of these occasions are little more than one-shot gimmicks, but some shows have elevated this dubious set-up into something unforgettable.

Here, in reverse order, are ten of television’s best double takes, followed by five from actors who should have been content with just one character.

10. Tina Louise as Ginger Grant and Eva Grubb

Gilligan’s Island

Bob Denver and Jim Backus also played multiple roles during the show’s three seasons, but Tina Louise’s dowdy performance as Eva Grubb was the series’ most memorable departure from the usual monotony of foiled island escapes. The episode “All About Eva” also earns bonus points for blending two classic TV chestnuts into one story – the dual role and the “plain Jane becomes a knockout” transformation.

9. James Best as Rosco P. Coltrane and Woody

The Dukes of Hazzard

James Best appeared in more than 80 films prior to Dukes of Hazzard, and was often cast as villains far more menacing than the sputtering Sheriff Rosco.  In “Too Many Roscos,” Best dusted off that steely expression and hardcore persona that served him well in those serious stories.  

8. Barbara Eden as Jeannie and Jeannie II

I Dream of Jeannie

It has taken awhile but of late I’ve been more impressed with Barbara Eden’s one-woman sister act. Beyond the brunette wig and the switch from pink to green harem costume, I think the contrast between her wide-eyed Jeannie and the character’s more sultry, scheming sister is still underrated by classic TV fans. Eden played both roles in several episodes, beginning with 1967’s “Jeannie or the Tiger.” 

7. Patrick Troughton as The Doctor and Salamander

Doctor Who

The Doctor Who adventure “The Enemy of the World” qualifies as a recent addition to any dual role ranking, though the story in which it took place first aired back in 1967. Only one episode of this 6-part story had been known to survive, until the other chapters were recently discovered in a vault in Nigeria. Now reassembled and released on DVD, the story does not disappoint, particularly in the distinction between Troughton’s whimsical, almost childlike Doctor and his portrayal of the brutal dictator Salamander.

6. Lindsay Wagner as Jaime Sommers and Lisa Galloway

The Bionic Woman

You know who really likes actors in dual roles? Emmy voters. In the first-season Bionic Woman episode “Mirror Image,” Lindsay Wagner played Southern belle Lisa Galloway, altered by plastic surgery to look like Jaime Sommers so she could steal some top-secret documents. She won the Emmy for Best Actress over what many felt was more distinguished competition, including Michael Learned (The Waltons) and Sada Thompson (Family). The Los Angeles Times reported there were boos in the pressroom after the winner was announced. With her bionic ear, Jaime probably heard them too. 

5. David Canary as Adam and Stuart Chandler

All My Children

The evil twin story is a mainstay of daytime drama. Fans still recall easygoing doctor Grant Putnam (Brian Patrick Clarke) squaring off against psycho killer Grant Andrews on General Hospital, or Natalie Marlowe (Kate Collins) being thrown down a well by Janet Green, a.k.a. “Janet from another planet,” on All My Children. But David Canary’s work as brothers Adam and Stuart Chandler had more heart and less histrionics than most twin stories. It also won him five Emmys.

4. Jack Larson as Jimmy Olsen and Kid Collins

The Adventures of Superman

Viewers used to Jack Larson’s amiable “Gosh, Mr. Kent!” persona had to be shocked at his transformation into a vicious mobster in “Jimmy the Kid.” His twisted, grimacing smile, clenched teeth and intense stare are a complete departure from that of Superman’s pal. Larson fondly recalled the episode when I interviewed him in 1996: “I’ve had the ultimate compliment of people asking me, ‘where did they get that actor who looked like you?’”

3. Elizabeth Montgomery as Samantha and Serena

Bewitched

As is often the case with Bewitched, you can enjoy the show for what it is, a still-funny supernatural sitcom, or you could look just beneath the surface and discover a series that had a little more on its mind. The episodes featuring Serena encapsulate the social and generational conflicts of the 1960s, with Elizabeth Montgomery convincingly playing both sides. Note the contrast between Sam, the sophisticated New England suburbanite who dresses formal for country club dinners, and her free-spirited, flower child cousin who wouldn’t be caught dead with all those stiffs. Note also the barely-hidden glance of admiration Sam betrays toward Serena’s bohemian lifestyle, and consider if Darren is holding her back in ways that have nothing to do with magic. 

2. Brent Spiner as Data and Lore

Star Trek: The Next Generation

It’s the tale of two android brothers, only one of whom can experience emotions. Unfortunately, that’s also the one that needed a factory recall. All of Lore’s appearances are series highlights, but Brent Spiner was never better than in the season 4 episode “Brothers,” in which he played Data, Lore and their creator, Dr. Noonien Soong.

1. Patty Duke as Patty and Cathy Lane

The Patty Duke Show

There’s no way this couldn’t be #1. The dual role here was no gimmick – the entire series was built around the concept of identical cousins, both played by a teenage actress who had already earned an Academy Award. Hardly surprising then that she was able to create two fully realized characters and keep them both interesting through 104 episodes.

Several stories called for Patty to imitate her cousin Cathy, or vice versa, and the modulation that Duke employs here is pretty astonishing. Just by the way she holds her eyes, or the suggestion of a mannerism that doesn’t quite fit, she depicts the character she is playing, and the character her character is trying to play. Even with the sound off, you can always tell what’s going on.

Watch the breakfast table scenes, where Duke makes Cathy left-handed and Patty right-handed, or how natural the conversational rhythm seems when the two characters are talking to each other – after awhile you completely forget the novelty of what’s happening. This is one (or two of) the very best performances in the Comfort TV era. 

The 5 Worst Comfort TV Dual Roles

Christopher Knight (The Brady Bunch)

“Two Petes in a Pod” aired late in the series’ fifth and final season, when everyone seemed to already be phoning it in. Christopher Knight’s transformation from Peter Brady to lookalike student Arthur consisted of nothing more than putting on a pair of glasses. 

Lucille Ball (Here’s Lucy)

One of the strangest episodes in the entire Lucy canon is “Lucy Carter meets Lucille Ball,” in which Lucy, in her usual Here’s Lucy character, wins a Lucille Ball lookalike contest. The show was a 30-minute commercial for Ball’s upcoming film Mame, which was one of the biggest bombs of her career.  Now, if Lucy Carter had met Lucy Ricardo, that might have been something special.

Leif Garrett (Wonder Woman)

Stretching those acting muscles, teen pop star Leif Garrett plays…a teen pop star and his twin brother, who also becomes a teen pop star. “My Teenage Idol is Missing” was an inauspicious start to the series’ last season.

David Hasselhoff as Michael Knight and Garth Knight (Knight Rider)

A classic slice of ‘80s cheese, in which Hasselhoff plays his evil twin by donning facial hair that made him look like Barry Gibb. Rumor has it that The Hoff put an end to Garth’s appearances because the makeup took too long to apply. Ah, nothing like dedication to one’s craft.  

Liberace (Batman)

The flamboyant entertainer seemed right at home as acclaimed pianist Chandell, but as Chandell’s crooked brother, Harry? Let’s just say we’ve seen more intimidating mobsters in our time – like these guys. 

Next Time You Watch Jeannie, Watch Tony

 I don’t collect a lot of television memorabilia, but I do have an I Dream of Jeannie bottle. They’re usually available on eBay from very talented artists who hand-paint each one. The guy who did mine seems to have gotten out of the business, or I’d have been pleased to recommend his services.

While it wasn’t planned, the bottle became the first piece in a small collection of Jeannie memorabilia on display in my office.

And what’s odd is that, while I am very fond of the series, I don’t think it’s as polished or classy as Bewitched, its unofficial companion from the 1960s. The comedy was broader, the jokes more obvious, the stories less nuanced. But in Barbara Eden and her pink harem costume, I Dream of Jeannie introduced an iconic character that will forever be part of every classic TV retrospective.

But here’s a challenge, for the next time you happen by a Jeannie rerun or pop in an episode on DVD: avert your glance from Eden’s bare tummy and focus on Larry Hagman as her hapless master, Tony Nelson.

Why? As first pointed out to me by my Charlie’s Angels Casebook coauthor Jack Condon, Hagman is teaching a master class in physical comedy. On some level we see it, as the only genuine laughs in I Dream of Jeannie are the immediate after-effects of a disastrous Jeannie blink, as Tony contends with sudden costume changes, elephants in his living room, and disappearing furniture. But we may not appreciate the remarkable timing and commitment he brings to these moments, complicated by the additional challenges created by the show’s pre-CGI special effects.

Think about it – when Tony is sitting on a chair, and Jeannie makes that chair disappear, Hagman must first sit in the chair, then sit immobile as filming stops while the chair is removed, then squat in the same position until the cameras roll again, and only then react to what appears to be a split-second vanishing in the finished episode. That’s a lot more difficult than just falling down.

Major Nelson’s Air Force uniform also added to the impact of these moments. As the 3 Stooges taught us, it’s always funnier to watch a man of dignity take a pie in the face.

I was going to cite episodes to check out, but as this is I Dream of Jeannie it really isn’t necessary. The series repeatedly recycled about a half-dozen plots over the course of five seasons, all of which included one or two moments of slapstick. When they befall poor Tony, it’s the one time he deserves the accolade of Master.