Disastrous Demises & Fond Farewells

Throughout the year, we occasionally take note of the passing of certain celebrities who held a special place in our heart - one notable one from this year was Mr. Christopher Plummer who passed away in February. Sometimes a beloved celeb will pass away who had already received a lengthy tribute on this site, such as Miss Sally Ann Howes who passed away just this past December. One of THE biggest losses this year was that of Miss Betty White, who seemed as if she would live on forever and who worked (and worked!) endlessly, both on screen and in her personal life for the benefit and welfare of animals. When she passed away in December, just weeks shy of her 100th birthday, TV as we know it was changed forever. She WAS television, from its inception. We also like to mention those who took part in the 1970-1980 cycle of disaster movies, the genre that gave us life for so long and led us into our love of movies and performers in the first place. I have a(n imaginary) club, the Disaster Movie Club, or DMC, that particular stars belong to because they happened to appear in one of those films. This year we lost four members that I am aware of.  So today we're going to pay our respects to a few of the faces we said goodbye to in 2021. 

The utterly astonishing Betty White did something that is unlikely to be matched by anyone else. She appeared on television in nine different decades! From 1948 to 2021, her face was the face of television, be it on talk/information shows, sitcoms, games shows, TV-movies, guest appearances or award programs (of which there were always many, thanks to her estimable talent, but even more once she began to receive lifetime achievement acknowledgements!) There were countless stage appearances and many movies as well along the way. And her efforts on behalf of the animal kingdom were tireless. We need more Betty Whites in our lives, though I fear we'll never see another one quite like her. It's not just that I loved watching her perform. I loved HER...

Our first member of the Disaster Movie Club is one Gregory Sierra. Hailing from Spanish Harlem, NY, Sierra could easily have fallen into a life of crime. His parents deserted him as a child and he was raised in rough surroundings by an aunt. Fortunately, he inadvertently fell into acting and wound up in stage productions, many of which were Shakespearean. In 1969, he moved to L.A. and immediately landed roles on TV, most often as ethnic types, though he always had an eye at mainstream roles as well. He had a memorably stoic countenance in Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970), was recurring on Sanford & Son, spent time on Barney Miller and proceeded to countless supporting roles on TV and in movies. He's a member of the DMC for his role as Carlos, the trusty bartender in The Towering Inferno (1974), but gets a bonus point for popping up in the strenuously bad Irwin Allen TV-film The Night the Bridge Fell Down (1980) with James MacArthur, Barbara Rush and Desi Arnaz Jr, among others. Sierra passed away in January, just shy of his 84th birthday due to stomach and liver cancer. 

While it's true that Carlos was a meager role in comparison to the others, he was a constant presence in the film, whether guarding some expensive booze or serving up delights to the kids who'd been rescued from the blaze. And he warranted a close-up at the climax of the film, along with the rest of the surviving cast up to that point.

Our next DMC member is a highly-acclaimed and accom- plished performer whose work in a disaster flick would rank among the very least of her credits. Miss Cicely Tyson began appearing in bit movie parts in the late 1950s and proceeded to regular work on TV by the early 1960s, including East Side/West Side and The Guiding Light. A career milestone came with 1972's Sounder, for which she was Oscar-nominated, punctuated by her turn in The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman (1974), for which she was granted two Emmys. (She was made up to play ages 23 to 110!) Many fine roles followed in Roots, The Marva Collins Story and Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All. As she aged, it's not like she was sitting around. She was nominated for Emmys five times for her work on How to Get Away with Murder while only appearing on the program ten times! That's one fine batting average. She died at at 96, having worked the previous year and having just published her own autobiography. Her disaster role came in the egregious The Concorde... Airport '79 (1979) in which she played the mother of a boy in need of a heart transplant who is accompanying the donor heart (!) back to its destination.

The brief closeup shown here serves as proof that Miss Tyson appeared in The Concorde. Otherwise, you're hard-pressed to find her as she either uses every opportunity to obscure herself behind any available person or object or else the cameraman picks every possible angle with which to disguise the fact that she is in the scene...! It's screamingly funny to try to count how many times she is covered up by something or turned away from the camera. During her big moment, when the heart is about to fall out of the closet, you can barely see her! And I am STILL, more than 40 years later, trying to figure out why she would be flying along with the heart instead of at the side of her ill young boy, urging him to hold on... but the entire movie is brimming over with idiocy on every level. It's one reason I love it! LOL

Next comes Miss Arlene Golonka. Golonka, a Chicago native, moved to New York City at age 19 and pursued a career, having taken acting and singing lessons as a child. By her early 20s she was on Broadway in several shows (in 1963 she was playing Candy Starr opposite Kirk Douglas in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest!) She did some NYC-based television before moving to Los Angeles and pursuing film work. Often cast as bubbleheads or floozies, she nonetheless was placed alongside Henry Fonda in Welcome to Hard Times (1967) and Clint Eastwood in Hang 'Em High (1968.) She also appeared frequently on Mayberry, R.F.D. from 1968 to 1971. Many TV guest roles followed and would continue up to 2005. She also did the occasional movie such as The In-Laws (1979) and My Tutor (1983) along with her DMC entry, Airport '77 (1977.) She played the mother of a little girl whose class's artwork was chosen to be presented at a grand museum opening and who both were being flown there in a luxury jet. Unfortunately, a hijacking occurs and the plane winds up under the ocean, like a reverse aquarium! She was 85 when she died in May of Alzheimer's disease.

Golonka played a character named Mrs. Jane Stern, though I don't think anyone ever refers to that at any point in time. In the upper insert, you get a glimpse of the artwork... LOL I think the artiste grew up to design the infamous VHS cover of The Little Mermaid (1989.) Some things you just can't forget; thus I recall my mother watching Golonka's wildly screeching, over-the-top reaction to her daughter being smushed between furniture during the crash and uttering, "Stupid woman...!" in the movie theater! LOL

Lastly, we find Mr. Ned Beatty. A Louisville native who worked his way through regional theatre and onto the New York stage. Few people ever made as eye-popping a movie debut as he did, playing the hapless victim of terrifying mountain men in Deliverance (1972) and enduring a sexual assault from one of them. He proceeded on to roles in many of the decade's notable films including Nashville (1975), All the President's Men (1976) Network (1976, which earned him an Oscar nomination) and Superman (1978.) Having done the disaster spoof The Big Bus (1976), and the comedy Silver Streak (1978), which featured a disaster-ish finale, he eventually appeared in the genre entry Gray Lady Down (1978.) As the reliable assistant to David Carradine, he worked on trying to rescue a submarine which has been disabled and is resting on a precarious ledge deep below the ocean's surface. Dubbed "The Busiest Actor in Hollywood," Beatty worked vigorously in many TV and movie projects for decades afterwards, adept at both drama and comedy. He passed away in June of natural causes at age 83.

The genial Beatty is snubbed by the condescending Stacy Keach, but ultimately is permitted to assist Carradine inside his mini-sub as they strive to locate the immobile submarine. Interestingly, one of the men Beatty is trying to rescue is his old Deliverance costar Ronny Cox. And among the topside crewmen is one Christopher Reeve (seen above-right), with whom Beatty would soon costar in Superman.

There are some other stars we lost this year who, while not officially members of the Disaster Movie Club, are still associated with it somewhat. These include the following three folks.

 

Mike Henry. Henry was a 6'3" linebacker for the Pittsburgh Steelers (and then the Los Angeles Rams) before making a big impression as the latest Tarzan in three popular films. His horrendous working conditions and a raft of personal injuries (for someone who was quite used to taking a lot of knocks!) led him to decline the TV series, which went to Ron Ely. He proceeded to supporting parts in movies such as Number One (1969) and Rio Lobo (1970) along with successful hits like Soylent Green (1973) and The Longest Yard (1974.) His part as the co-pilot in Skyjacked (1972) is why he's noted here, though that really isn't exactly a "disaster movie." The all-star cast on an airliner in distress causes me to lump it in with the rest, though. Henry, who had played many strong, macho types of roles, turned everything around for Smokey and the Bandit (1977) and its two sequels. He portrayed the lunkheaded son of exasperated sheriff Jackie Gleason. A few years after the third film in that series, he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease and segued out of the business. It was complications from that which took his life last January at age 84. Even if it were not for Skyjacked, we thought he was a handsome and charismatic enough hunk that he'd warrant mention here. 

George Segal never made a true '70s "disaster movie" either, though I tend to think of Rollercoaster (1977) in those terms thanks to the Sensurround and the all-star cast featured on posters. Following some military service, Segal proceeded to the stage and ultimately onto early '60s TV before landing parts in movies like The Young Doctors (1961) and The Longest Day (1962.) Things kicked up considerably after Ship of Fools (1965), King Rat (1965) and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) for which he was Oscar nominated. Leading roles followed with a mixture of success and failure (in which he reportedly priced himself out of some producers' leagues, but could not quite deliver the box office receipts desired.) Two of my favorites movies of his were No Way to Treat a Lady (1968) and Fun with Dick and Jane (1977.) After a rough patch (following his departure from 10, 1980, and being sued for it), Segal emerged as a skillful and sought after character actor. He was still working regularly on the series The Goldbergs when he opted for heart bypass surgery at age 87 and did not survive the procedure.

We always enjoyed our next performer in practically anything, thanks to her dynamic personality and intense acting energy. Miss Jessica Walter cut her performing teeth on the New York stages while simul- taneously working on the daytime serial Love of Life. After many prime time TV guest roles, she debuted on film in Lilith (1964), then rode the publicity wave caused by being one of eight featured actresses in The Group (1966.) She continued in films, notably as the spurned, unhinged lover of Clint Eastwood in Play Misty for Me (1971), for which she was Golden Globe nominated. However, it would be another decade before she appeared again in a feature film! Always busy, she did countless TV guest roles, TV-movies and brief tries at regular or recurring roles on shows. At long last in 2003 she found regular work on television with the cult favorite series Arrested Development. She also lent her voice to the animated show Archer. Walter died in her sleep at age 80 in March of last year. So what did she ever do that was "disaster movie" related?

She gets a half-point for costarring in the 1974 TV-movie Hurricane with Larry Hagman. They play a couple on a little boat, which is almost out of gas during the title storm.

Then there's the curious case of The Concorde... Airport '79! In the expanded TV version of the movie, George Kennedy has a flashback in which he recalls breakfast with his son (the same Brian Morrison who played the boy in Airport 1975 and in the expanded version of Airport '77) and his wife, now played by Walter! First played in Airport (1970) by Jodean Lawrence, then by Susan Clark in Airport 1975, Walter is now shown reading tea leaves in which she predicts a fatal crash. Turns out it's not the Concorde (that was a bomb in more ways than one!) It winds up being her own car crash, which leaves her with brain damage and death. Kennedy is shown visiting her with a bandage all over her head.

There were still a few other celebs we lost in 2021 who meant something to me. None of them had received a full-on tribute here, but they were nevertheless people whose work I admired. So we close with some info on them! 

Miss Jane Withers - I have to admit that I have seen few, if any, of the films Withers made as a child star, though she was immensely popular (and a rascally antidote to the sweeter and perkier Miss Shirley Temple, with whom Withers worked in Bright Eyes, 1934.) Despite playing tomboyish parts, often rambunctious or bratty, she was known to be extremely polite and very bright off-screen. She was also exceedingly caring, raising millions for charity (at a time when such a figure was astronomical.) She did come back to the business as a character actress (such as in Giant, 1956) and in a more than decade-long stint as Josephine the Plumber in Comet cleanser ads. My primary contact with her was later in life, when she appeared as a spirited guest on many talk shows. Her zest for life and positive outlook was so welcome. She endured a few tragedies along the way, such as losing a husband in a plane crash and losing a child to cancer, but at no time did she abandon her personal zing. When she died in August of last year, she was 95.

John Richardson - Only those who've been under a rock are unaware of Raquel Welch and her "fur bikini" in One Million Years B.C. (1966.) But when I saw the movie for the first time, while I certainly took notice of her, it was Richardson's skimpy getup that really caught my eye. His abbreviated loincloth and silent-movie era expressions made an impression. He'd already played the dreamy love interest of Ursula Andress in She (1965) and would later catch Barbra Streisand's attention in On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (1970.) After his six-year marriage to Martine Beswick ended, he settled in Italy as a leading man, often in thrillers. Retired for quite some time, he was taken by the Covid-19 pandemic at age 86 last January.

Miss Jane Powell - There were few folks with as sunny and ingratiating a smile as Powell. Having begun dancing at age 2, she proceeded to winning talent contests, ultimately landing a contract with MGM at age 14! She portrayed many sprightly teens in colorful musicals, but had to wait until Royal Wedding (1951) to make a major impact (replacing first a pregnant June Allyson and then an ill Judy Garland.) Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954) was a smash and is considered one of the top musicals of all time. After her contract expired and light musicals fell out of fashion at the box office, she worked very often in theatre. Later, she continued to work as a TV guest star and in TV-movies (one of which was Mayday at 40,000 Feet!, about an airliner in distress.) Married five times, most happily to former child star Dickie Moore, who she met in 1981 as he was researching his book on child stars, she was another person whose sunny smile covered up personal tragedies. Her mother was an alcoholic and she had suffered sexual abuse by neighbors as a pre-teen. Powell passed away last September at age 92.

Stephen Sondheim - The theatre community has been mourning the loss of one of its genius contributors, who passed away of heart disease last November at 91. Sondheim took an interest in the theatre - and notably the piano - at age 9 and was mentored soon after by the father of one of his friends. That man was none other than the great Oscar Hammerstein II! Following school and some rocky years of trying to break through, he won the position of lyricist for a little something being developed called West Side Story! He proceeded to do the same on Gypsy and then became both lyricist and composer for A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. Many successes (and some failures) followed, but his talent was practically never in question. Company, Follies, A Little Night Music, Sweeney Todd, Sunday in the Park with George and Into the Woods are some of the memorable shows he helped create. A lonely child who'd suffered an acrimonious relationship with his psychologically abusive mother, many of his works involved less than picture-perfect situations. He did find some degree of happiness when he fell in love for the first time at age 60, though it wasn't to last beyond about eight years. In 2017, he wed a much-younger partner who survived him.   

BONUS PICS:

During my 25-year stage career (now retired), I played Rapunzel's Prince in Into the Woods, sang many of Sondheim's works in the revue You're Gonna Love Tomorrow and won the bucket list role of Miles Gloriosus in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. I though this funereal sequence might be appropriate to this particular post...!

Rollercoaster might not be a "disaster movie," but this hooty British lobby card sure aimed for that audience when it used this shot of a horrific crash which opens the film!

Richardson's sizzlean physique (with high-cut loincloth) was arresting, but those eyes were something to behold, too!

Henry was a very fit and handsome Tarzan indeed. If memory serves, he was the first one to sport a hairy chest.

One last photo of our beloved Miss White. You will be missed... Thank you for being a friend!

Skywhacked!

The airborne drama Skyjacked came out in 1972 and, though it isn’t a disaster movie in the sense that the plane isn’t crashing, it still belongs in the same basic family due to its all-star format and in-flight setting. Starring (who else?!) Charlton Heston as the pilot, it concerns a passenger jet, which someone onboard has decided to blow up if the crew doesn’t change its course to the destination desired. (I deliberately passed this film up in the somewhat chronological order I’ve been musing about disaster movies in, lest someone might think this is strictly a Heston blog, he was in so many of these types of movies in the 1970s!)

Some posters for the film used the popular (and oft-mentioned here) scheme of boxes with faces of the stars. This one tweaked it a bit by arranging them differently rather than in a row at the bottom. It also strove to project a “whodunit” aspect to the film and, though the movie does indeed take pains to shroud the identity of the hijacker for a fairly significant amount of time, the back of the DVD case gives the mystery away completely! So take care if you wish to be surprised when watching and ignore that until later.

During the 70s, feature films and TV movies continually focused on mid-air crises of all kinds. The Airport series featured its own mad bomber along with a collision with a small private craft, a crash beneath the waters of the Bermuda Triangle and finally a skirmish with heat-seeking missiles (clearly most of the ideas had run out by that time!) Various TV-films dealt with ghosts, crashes into the Everglades, murderers and even one in which a plane flies into a skyscraper! Then there’s the loopy Starflight: The Plane That Couldn’t Land (released to video as Starflight One) about a state of the art craft that gets flung into outer space! Check out the old VHS cover here. (Click to enlarge.)

Here, Heston and Co. are on board a passenger jet for Minneapolis when suddenly there are lipstick-written messages (the first one on a mirror in the lavatory!) demanding that the flight plan be rerouted to Anchorage instead or else a bomb will be detonated. Not only does Heston have to contend with a hijacker/bomber, but also he doesn't even know who the culprit is, just that he or she is likely a member of first class. Meanwhile, the camera keeps finding ways to land on various tubes of red lipstick!

This makes the first 30 minutes of the film a bit of a mystery. It also makes for some serious tedium, as the script can't allow viewers to know much about the people on board, lest it become obvious who is or is not the passenger with a screw loose. So the various stars have to maintain a certain level of suspicion about them while also striving to deliver facets of themselves that would make the audience give a care about them. For the most part, they aren’t too successful with this, though the script is probably the main culprit.

Heston was a master at playing these types of square-jawed authority figures and he does well here, even showing some shades of vulnerability at times. Check out the mushroom cloud of smoke he has coming out of his pipe in the cockpit! Hunky former Tarzan Mike Henry plays his co-pilot and the two are in the midst of a love triangle over attractive chief stewardess Yvette Mimieux. Henry is her current lover, though she used to be with Heston. Their past love affair is displayed in some loony, “arty” flashbacks, the kind Airplane! would later make fun of.
Football star-turned-actor Rosey Grier plays a nervous musician who carries a big cello case with him. He’s seated next to clean cut soldier James Brolin, on hiatus from his regular role as Dr. Steven Kiley on Marcus Welby, M.D.”
Confrontational hippie Susan Dey (also on hiatus from her own series The Partridge Family) manages to find time to flirt with sweet Nicholas Hammond. We all remember Hammond, of course, from his appearance as Friedrich Von Trapp in The Sound of Music. He’s on board the flight with his U.S. senator father Walter Pidgeon. Pidgeon attempts in vain to inject weight into his paper-thin part.

Ross Elliott and Jeanne Crain as a married couple are so much furniture, their roles are so un-fleshed-out. (Crain, who lived for three more decades afterwards, never stepped before a movie camera again after this.) At least Mariette Hartley gets a chance to fret some in her clichéd role of the panicky pregnant woman (and orders a Bloody Mary to drink! Take that PC people.) Claude Akins appears in a role George Kennedy would likely have played if he hadn't been stretched so thin in virtually every other disaster film of the decade. Leslie Uggams, in her film debut, plays a confident stewardess whose final line is amusing if a bit unlikely.

People keep misunderstanding each other's intentions and motives in an effort to build some mystery about the bomber. Sadly, this just isn't handled well enough to work to the film's advantage. When the hijacker is revealed, things take on a more tense feeling, but there are really very few times when anyone in this movie acts like a real person. The passengers react to the news of a hijacking the way they might react to finding that the plane is out of smokehouse almonds. At least in Airport, the star-studded cast members each got a chance to shine, even if some of the stories were silly. Here, the characters are almost strictly cardboard props.

What's neat about the film are its serene production design and color scheme, its aerial photography, its unusual music score, its generally serious tone and its eclectic cast of familiar faces. I live for those cool, cadet blue stewardess uniforms that once were the norm, though movies always seemed to contain even more sharp ones than real life.

Unfortunately, the script has to count as a debit as it fails to generate any characters of particular interest or depth. The editing and continuity on the film is also poor. Chunks of activity seem to have been left out such as Henry bandaging Mimieux's cut. Also, Mimieux's hair goes from loose to pulled-back to loose within moments.

Though the film is not nearly campy enough to be funny throughout (despite being released by Warner Brothers as a "Cult Camp Classic"), there are a couple of giggles along the way such as when one passenger is nearly frozen and has a hair full of frost or when busy character actor John Fiedler has his voice hilariously and ludicrously over- dubbed. There's a lack of urgency to the movie, typified by (the still-lovely) Crain when she has a chance to get off the plane and decides to smooth out the suede in her hat instead. It's doubtful that anyone but die-hard buffs will find this anything much beyond tiresome, but at least it isn't an over-the-top mess like so many of today's movies.

Check Out These Swingers!

Today, we’ll examine a few TV & movie Tarzans. Typically, the first name that comes to mind when thinking of the famous vine swinger is the first sound film Tarzan, Johnny Weissmuller. Having essayed the role from 1932 to 1948, he was also the actor with the longest span of portrayal.

Weissmuller’s early years have a touch of mystery to them, mostly because he and his family fudged his place of birth (Austria-Hungary, but changed to Windber, PA) in order to ensure his eligibility for the 1924 Olympics where he won three gold medals as a swimmer. He also took a bronze that year as part of the water polo team and then returned in 1928 to win two more golds. Weissmuller never lost a race during his entire swimming career and set 67 world records! Prior to his acting in films, he swam with Billy Rose’s Aquacade where, if you believe Esther Williams, he not only tried to seduce her throughout the time they worked together, but also sported an eye-popping endowment.

The first film in Weissmuller’s series, Tarzan, the Ape Man, is an unqualified classic and also contains an adult sensibility that would be absent from many of the subsequent films. Made in the “pre-code” era, Weissmuller’s loincloth was at its skimpiest and his female costar Maureen O’Sullivan had a nude, underwater swimming scene. Later films would have both the stars slightly more covered up and also impose a sort of conventional family dynamic upon the couple and their eventual adopted son ‘Boy.’ Weissmuller, perhaps, stayed too long at the fair, so to speak, where this role is concerned and his later entries in the series are cheaper and more routine.

Lex Barker, who then inherited the role, is featured elsewhere on this blog. One of the beefiest and cutest-looking Tarzans was Gordon Scott, who owned the role from 1955 to 1960. A bodybuilder with big arms and a tiny waist, Scott was discovered in Las Vegas as a lifeguard and signed for the part in the wake of 200 prior applicants. Though his first couple of films in the role are nothing tremendous, Scott is the first Tarzan to appear in color onscreen and his last two features, Tarzan’s Greatest Adventure and Tarzan the Magnificent are widely considered among the best ever. His first attempt (Tarzan’s Hidden Jungle), however, costarred Vera Miles and the pair were married for a while during the 1950s. Are ya getting this? Vera Miles got to have sex with Gordon Scott! No wonder her skin stayed so dewy fresh for all those years.

A Tarzan TV series was suggested in 1958 starring Scott and he filmed an extensive, three-part pilot for it, though, for some reason it was not picked up. This was put together as the movie Tarzan and the Trappers and later shown on TV in 1966. Scott worked in Italian films, sometimes with his pal Steve Reeves, for a time, but really didn’t work in films past the late 60s. Though he did make more than a few personal appearances at conventions and so on, his later years were less than successful. In fact, he spent the last six years of his live living in the spare bedroom of a fan, passing away in 2007.

In 1966, the screen’s first real hairy-chested Tarzan made his debut. Mike Henry, a former Pittsburgh Steeler and L.A. Ram, is, despite a pretty brief run at the part, many folks’ favorite. He only did three Tarzan movies from 1966 to 1968, but his lean, dark good looks and amiable persona made him memorable in the part.

Henry had a very rough time of it, the series by now being filmed in strenuous locations such as Mexico and Brazil, where he suffered from injuries, infections and even a serious chimpanzee bite to the chin! The latter incident led to stitches and a three-week recovery thanks to Monkey Bite Fever. He was intended to star in yet another TV version of the story, but he not only turned it down but also sued the producers for the conditions under which he’d been working during the previous films.

Henry has a notorious fight scene with an animal in one of his films (I believe it is Tarzan and the Valley of Gold) in which his loincloth flips up, revealing something underneath. Rumors persist that it’s one of his balls, but I have always believed that it is a jockstrap. In any case, despite all of his problems and reservations concerning the experience, he was a very good Tarzan.

Some people might be surprised to learn that he later appeared as Jackie Gleason’s sidekick in Smokey and the Bandit and its sequels. He also did no fewer than three Charlton Heston films and two with John Wayne as well.

When the TV deal with Henry didn’t work out, a series was finally put together starring 6’4” bit actor Ron Ely. The show, which ran from 1966 – 1968, got an unusual kickoff when three former Tarzan’s met Ely to swing on vines for the press. The Tarzans were Jock Mahoney (one of the least favorite from Poseidon’s point of view), Johnny Weissmuller (Oh dear Lord, JW, that loincloth!) and a rather little known one named James Pierce, who had portrayed the King of the Jungle in a 1927 silent film! (See below)

Ely, who did virtually all of his own stunt work, incurred a ridiculous number of injuries during the filming of the 36 episodes! These include, but are not limited to: burns, bites, a dislocated shoulder, open wounds, cracked ribs and sprained wrists! In 1975, he starred in the (unsuccessful) film Doc Savage: The Man of Bronze. (Ronny doesn't look all that bronze in the attached photo!) By 1980, he had moved on to comparatively safer work such as hosting the Miss America Pageant after the departure of Bert Parks and the game show Face the Music. Face the Music, which only ran for a year and a half, will nonetheless be a vivid memory to people of a certain age. The bonus round would play songs with titles related to a certain star and each step of the way featured early pics of that star from infancy up to the way they looked in their hey day.

Tarzan, as a franchise, did many little gay boys a favor over the years because it was perfectly acceptable to watch one of the films in a theater or on TV, yet they always afforded prolonged glimpses of handsome, muscular, nearly naked men!