http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/ Stories from the Archives of Boxoffice® Magazine en Copyright 2008 Sun, 09 Dec 2007 17:00:00 -0800 http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/ http://www.rssboard.org/rss-specification For any of today's post to make sense, you'll need to read last week's entry, Bigotry Stalks the Boxoffice. You'll find a link on the right. Read both the blog entry and, particularly, the linked page. I'll enjoy this fine Thai Rhapsody Beef Salad (marinated sliced beef tossed with lettuce, cucumber, tomato, onions, chili paste and lime juice) and Kendall Jackson Chardonnay while I wait. As my host, Suwit Patthanawanich of Thai Rhapsody in Mill Creek, Washington* always tells me, "take your time." And we're back. We're going to do a bit of a serpentine today, though without Alan Arkin's flailing arms (google if you must)—we're going to start with Lerner and Loewe, talk about me for a bit, jump to Hemingway, talk about Gingrich for another bit, take a detour to one of America's first black illustrators, and end with the Dionne Quintuplets; and, as always, you'll be asked to click for a big reveal. Here we go: Once in the highlands, the highlands of Scotland, deep in the night on a murky brae—okay, I have no idea what a brae is or whether being on a murky one is pleasant or uncomfortable. However, as a lover of showtunes you will recognize that bit of lyric as being from the musical Brigadoon, the story of a mythical Scottish town that awakes every one hundred years. The Broadway production opened in 1947 and ran for 581 performances. However, the original story upon which Lerner and Loewe based their show wasn't Scottish at all—it was German and the likelihood of Broadway mounting a musical in 1947 about Germany was zero, though Zero Mostel would open Springtime for Hitler twenty-years later in The Producers. So, Lerner and Loewe set their story in Scotland and right around the day I was born in Rhode Island, Rhode Island-born Van Johnson was on a soundstage singing about going home with Bonnie Jean. Sure, Van, whatever you say. Speaking of Scotland, my parents had the foresight and wisdom to attach a fine Scottish Gaelic name to their son—Kenneth. Name Your Pets will tell you that the name Kenneth means handsome and you'll note if you glance up and to the left how truly true that truly is. In addition to that bit of obviousness, Ken also means to understand. If I were to design and publish a handsome magazine that required of its readers a deep understanding, I would name it Ken. Well, I would if someone hadn't already thought of that. In 1938, the publisher and editor of then five-year-old Esquire launched a spin-off of the men's leisure magazine and called it Ken. It was viewed as an anti-facist, anti-communist periodical and was self-described this way: A magazine of unfamiliar fact and informed opinion, filling in the shadows cast by coming events all over the world; equally opposed to the development of dictatorship from neither Left or Right, whose one fixed editorial aim is to give unhampered and unbiased demonstration of whatever dangers threaten this our democracy from without and within, in accord with the Lincolnian dictum of "Let the people know the truth and this country is safe." As the Spanish Civil War raged in 1938 one champion of the Loyalist cause identified Ken as the ideal vehicle for his reports and stories. Ernest Hemingway was among the first to contract with Ken (and Esquire) editor Arnold Gingrich (and you thought I was going to bring Newt into this) and began sending in his writings almost from the moment he set foot in Spain; publishing 14 in all. Ken was also known for its support of minority voices and counted E. Simms Campbell among its contributors. Campbell was one of the first African-American commercial illustrators to enjoy national exposure, though you would be hard-pressed to spot a black face among his watercolors of harem girls, hula dancers, lingerie models, and blushing brides. Though Campbell's editorial and cover work did much to enliven Esquire and Ken, the advertising art he and others toiled over didn't stop the advertisers themselves from abandoning Ken and it's left-leaning ways. Advertisers were a skittish bunch, then as now. Ken folded in just over a year, but not before they published a story about one Henry D. Allen, the charming anti-Semite who was responsible for the Boycott the Movies pamphlet I share on this page and in last week's Timecode. Convicted check kiter Allen filed suit against Ken which you'll read about shortly. After Boxoffice reprinted the anti-Semitic flyer in its October 1, 1938 issue, the weekly magazine was inundated with letters from studio heads and exhibitors with many congratulating Publisher Ben Shlyen for his courage and many others scolding the magazine for fomenting more trouble. Over the next few issues, Boxoffice not only published several lengthy articles on the controversy, it printed many of the letters and comments—most submitted anonymously. Boxoffice also fingered Allen as the publisher of the leaflet and sent Western Manager Ivan Spear to investigate. Spear managed to corral and interview a member of Allen's legal team. You'll find this interview on the next page. Let's see: I covered Brigadoon, Me, Hemingway, Gingrich (though, not Newt), and something you didn't know about the art in Esquire. I think I still owe you the Dionne Quintuplets. Well, it was our Western Manager, Ivan Spear, who signed Ontario's Dionne Quintuplets to a contract to appear at the 1933-34 Chicago World's Fair. They were less than a year old. Now, go read this week's Timecode. And for an extra heaping helping of Timecode, you can find it in this month's print edition of Boxoffice. Just click the Subscribe button at the top of this page (the digital online edition is free). K 220 45888 *damn, I still had to pay full price.]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/12/bigotry-stalks-the-boxoffice-i.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/12/bigotry-stalks-the-boxoffice-i.php Sun, 09 Dec 2007 17:00:00 -0800 In Las Vegas, where everything stays in Vegas unless your name is Orenthal, there are several Halls of Fame. There's a Pinball Hall of Fame. There's a Casino Legends Hall of Fame. There's a Game Show Hall of Fame and because I know you think I made that up here's the link; however, any Game Show Hall of Fame that hasn't inducted Bud Collyer, Garry Moore, or Bill Cullen is a Hall of Lame. But the Hall of Fame that we shall ogle for a bit is the Burlesque Hall of Fame. Now we're cookin'. If you are an admirer of the ecdysiast's art you'll be familiar with a few of the inductees: Candy Bar, Sally Rand, Chesty Morgan, Blaze Starr. Out in front of them all, in every way —including her birthday: February 29th—is Tempest Storm, the most dimensionally gifted of them all. At nearly 80 she still attracts admirers from every compass point. At the height of her career, just about the time JFK started sniffing around, she had her acreage insured by Lloyd's for the previously mentioned million bucks. A publicity gimmick, to be sure, but sillier things have been insured. Me, for example. As Ms. Storm's career sagged she met and married jazz singer Herb Jeffries, also at the tail end of his career. However, during the late 1930s singer Herb Jeffries was one of the most popular Western stars in the movies. Wrote his own songs, did his own stunts. At 96, Mr. Jeffries has yet to shed his mortal coil (though I should type faster to ensure the accuracy of this sentence) and I hope that he's sharing stories of the glory of those days in the saddle. For readers who've never heard of Herb Jeffries (or Jeffrey, as he was sometimes credited) I present this poster from one of his hits. Other films included Harlem on the Prairie, Two-Gun Man from Harlem, and Harlem Rides the Range. Like baseball of the period, movie theaters in many parts of the country were segregated while producers delivered "product" especially geared toward the "negro patron". Well, isn't that special. From a 1938 issue of Boxoffice®, I found the full-page ad below "pridefully" announcing a new line of "all-negro product". Strangely, the phrase that caught my eye was just beneath: "independent white features of quality". Yes, I like a good independent white feature. Napoleon Dynamite was awesome. Sack Amusement Enterprises, founded in 1920 by white Mississippi businessman Alfred N. Sack, specialized in films and shorts for African-American audiences. Though responsible for significant production funds, films from Sack were mostly produced, directed, and written by black artists. Many of these films exist today and Netflix is just a few keystrokes away. Sadly, many are gone and forgotten. I wonder as I look at this ad if I can just brush it off as a relic of the past, think it sad and move past it, that we're all grown up now and the notion of films for blacks by blacks for black theaters is gone, gone with the wind. But, then I look at Tyler Perry's Madea's Family Reunion, an independent black film that grossed $64 million. Stunning, really for an independent film. Total gross outside the US? Fifty grand. Anyone brave enough to explain that? Okay, so the Sack ad is weird and odd and sad. You ain't seen nothin' yet, to quote Jolson, though I probably shouldn't do that just now. From the same volume of Boxoffice® I bring you maximum ugliness. I'll have more on this next Saturday. Enjoy? K 220 45888]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/12/bigotry-stalks-the-boxoffice.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/12/bigotry-stalks-the-boxoffice.php Sat, 01 Dec 2007 03:00:00 -0800 220 45888]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/boxoffice-bardot.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/boxoffice-bardot.php Sun, 25 Nov 2007 03:00:00 -0800 It's a goofy short week, and I am taking a break so that I can eat Thai food for Thanksgiving. But, for the few of you who venture to this spot each Sunday, I have a special presentation. Lucky as I am to prowl the bowels of Boxoffice® it's been a challenge to find a nifty way to share with you the wonderful advertising art that has appeared in the magazine over the years. I spied this 8-page gatefold piece in an early 1960 issue of the magazine and whipped up a little 3D illustration to better show it in all its color and glory. So, then: this is a single ad, but I've illustrated each stage of the unfolding. For a bigger gander at the art, click here. Next Sunday I'll be back to my usual jibber-jabber. Happy Turkey Weekend, K 220 45888]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/who-are-you-the-queen-of-sheba.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/who-are-you-the-queen-of-sheba.php Fri, 23 Nov 2007 18:48:23 -0800 The ad touts Korda's outstanding talent discoveries though Sabu would be the answer if you were playing "One of These Things Is Not Like the Other." Oscar-nominated Merle Oberon certainly deserves her place here, but I suspect the reason she's at the top of the pile is that her husband, the soon to be Sir Alexander, paid for the ad. Oberon was severely injured in an automobile accident a few years before this ad appeared and her face was so scarred that several years later a new light was developed so that she would photograph well. The "Obie" is still used today. Look at my headshot at the top left of this page. I'm not really that handsome. The Obie can be your friend, too. So, Korda was a star maker and if you've read this far it is time for your reward. Before we get to the good stuff, you'll need to click the Korda ad. I'll wait. If everything is wired up correctly, the overleaf should now be in view announcing Alexander Korda's flaming new discovery—Corrine Luchaire; in a woman behind bars picture, no less. YES! (If you don't see the ad I've just described my cell will ring at any moment). Prison Without Bars, starring French teen Luchaire, was an English-language remake of a film from the previous year. I doubt that you've heard of Corrine Luchaire—her career was a short one for reasons I'll soon reveal and they're juicy. I now have the attention of my sisters. 1939 was not only a year of unmatched Hollywood product—Gone With the Wind, The Wizard of Oz, Stagecoach, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Wuthering Heights (with the future Lady Korda)—it was a year when Hollywood brought out the American flag. Fervently anti-Nazi, Hollywood began to speak out politically for the first time. Chaplin was lensing The Great Dictator, Warners was releasing Confessions of a Nazi Spy and the Russian film, Concentration Camp. Adolph Hitler (or maybe it was Dick Shawn), in a rant before the Reichstag in 1939, said this in response to Hollywood gaining a spine: "Announcements by American film companies that they intend to produce anti-Nazi—that is, anti-German—films can but induce us to produce anti-Semetic films in Germany. Here, too, our opponents should not permit themselves any delusions as to the effectiveness of what we can do. There will be very many states and peoples who will show great understanding for supllementary instructions of this kind on such an important subject. We believe that if the Jewish international campaign of hatred by press and propaganda could be checked, good understanding would very quickly be established between the peoples." In a vibrant response belittling "the Austrian housepainter" Boxoffice® editor Maurice Kann ended with this: "The verbal bullying before the Reichstag stooges, as a consequence, must not collapse any backbones. It must not strike terror into any courageous plans already made in Hollywood or brewing along lines exposing terrorism to a world which must strike back it it is not to be engulfed in a political and economic ideology at direct odds with the fundementals of free thinking and free action. It simply must not be." Many studios ran ads in trade journals exhorting theater owners to show these politically-charged, pro-American films nakedly appealing to their patriotism. Not all exhibitors were on board, however; here is J. F. Schlez of the Columbia Theatre in Columbia, North Carolina: "Our reason for cancelling "Nazi Spy" is that it is a propoganda film. After showing "Blockade" [a rather benign Fonda film set against the Spanish Civil War" - K note], we swore off. The prime purpose of any theatre is to entertain. Our patrons are 100% native stock and don't care for European squabbles. Of course we are all sorry for the existing conditions over there, but that is all. Senator Reynolds has already told how we feel about it and he is right. We are NOT showing 'Nazi Spy'." The charming Senator of whom he spoke was Robert Rice Reynolds, a Nazi sympathizer who was lucky he wasn't shot for treason. But Hollywood ignored racist fascists like Mr. Schlez and continued to press their point in print, in business and on screen. Leni Riefenstahl came to town around this time to show Olympia and was not only rebuffed, she was run out of town on a schiene. A Boxoffice® reporter attended a roundtable interview with Riefenstahl where she asked the man, referring to coverage of her country, "Why don't you write about the good things?" His wry reply: "What is there that I could possibly write about?" And, therefore, it is sadly ironic that Alexander Korda, a Hungarian Jew, would trumpet the gamine Luchaire so blaringly in the pages of Boxoffice® that year because, as it turns out, Mlle. Luchaire would have been right at home collecting her winnings with the very Vichy Claude Rains at Rick's Cafe Americain in Casablanca. For Korda and Luchaire it would not be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. When the ad you now have to scroll up to see went to press, Corrine Luchaire was the teenage mistress of Otto Abetz the Nazi Ambassador to France. She made her only films in 1939, including Prison Without Bars. Later, Abetz was tried for war crimes, but beat the rap just long enough to get himself smashed up on der autobahn. Luchaire's father, Jean Luchaire, was a journalist and publisher who not only collaborated with the Germans after France fell, but found himself facing a firing squad after the war. Their aim was sure and true. In the same year her father was shot, Corrine Luchaire was sentenced to a decade's worth of dégradation nationale—the loss of basic rights. She authored an autobiography before succumbing to tuberculocis just before her 28th birthday. Dégradation nationale—can we do that to Brittney? Now, in this week's Timecode I'll give you a peek at three very different studio ads from 1939—including Confessions of a Nazi Spy—as they appeared in the pages of Boxoffice®. Make sure you start from left to right. Let the clicking begin. K 220 45888]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/1939-archive-gallery.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/1939-archive-gallery.php Sun, 18 Nov 2007 01:00:00 -0800 Torpedo Run in 1959: "This is a well made action thriller in CinemaScope and color with an excellent cast." Same picture, different tiny town: "This is a top submarine story in color and 'Scope…" And how about this one from Dauphin, Manitoba regarding The Deerslayer: "Not bad—good color—just heard we shall have no tv here for another 15 months, thank heaven." One of the secrets of Martin and Lewis's spectacular film success (even though you could watch them for free all the time on television) was one simple, shrewd move: they made their films in widescreen and in color while Bud and Lou, Moe, Larry, and whichever Curly happened to be available that day, did not. Martin and Lewis's last seven films together were in VistaVision and Technicolor. Though we can all now agree that a little telethon Lewis can go a long, long way, in the mid-Fifties there wasn't enough Lewis to go around. So, it's 1959 and there's no more Martin and Lewis (though Jerry is packing them in as a single with The Geisha Boy and Rock-a-Bye Baby). Universal-International thinks they've hit on just the right team to fill the yawning abyss left by Hal Wallis's valuable deuce. One half of the new team is a war hero and the other a struggling radio writer who have been finding some success in the nightclub circuit and on variety television. They're signed to star in a rejected Martin and Lewis script and, well, let's hear from exhibitor James Hardy from Shoals, Indiana, population 1300 about this new, can't miss comedy western—Once Upon a Horse: "I myself have never heard of these two guys, as I am the only one in our neighborhood that doesn't have a TV set. I guess everyone else knew about them, as I had one of the best Saturday nights in months. With the split up of Martin and Lewis and now Abbott and Costello, looks like these guys could take over and do a fine job." But hang on there, buckaroos, not so fast, there—Charles Smith from LoMar Theatre in Arthur, Illinois, population 2000 weighs in: "This is about the most disgusting pile of trash we have shown on our screen for quite some time. We made the bills and that's all. This picture never would have been missed." Now, I don't think this movie scored so low on the Boxoffice® Barometer, which you'll read about on the next page, because fresh-faced, long-limbed Mary Tyler Moore played a dance hall girl in her film debut. I'm not even sure that the film failed due to its stars, Dan Rowan and Dick Martin. I think the film is not remembered by you or me or the fans of that psychedelic rainbow of the Sixties, Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In simply because— It wasn't in color. K 220 45888

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Oh, almost forgot: Noonan and Marshall? What? You've never heard of the comedy team the Variety Club of Philadelphia dubbed "Comedy Stars of the Future" at it's 25th Anniversary Celebration in 1959? The comedy team that placed a full-page ad in Boxoffice® Magazine facing Rock Hudson's full page ad (which just says,"My Sincere Thanks—Rock Hudson" - cool)? Are you kidding me? Tommy Noonan and Pete Marshall? They starred in…okay, so they didn't star in anything together. Maybe they should have just given Peter Marshall the "Game Show Host of the Future" award.]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/noonan-and-marshall-never-hear.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/noonan-and-marshall-never-hear.php Sat, 10 Nov 2007 23:30:00 -0800 moviest multi-multiplex in the zipcode: The AMC Loews Alderwood Mall 16. If that name included -orama it would be perfect. As we cruise by I often ask my driver, Bosco, to slide the tinted windows down so that I may take in the view. It's an impressive building; a fortress, and I live near the Largest Building in the World, so I know a big building when I spot a big building. I saw Transformers at the AMC Loews Alderwood Mall 16-orama, but giant robots aren't the only giant things I have seen at the multiplex. Oh, no. The first movie I ever saw in a multiplex was Deep Throat—on a date, because, yes, I am that smooth of a guy. I would peg the year at 1977 and the theater in this small Oregon town had maybe four screens: each featuring other films deep and/or throaty. Younger readers may be surprised to learn that adult entertainment; oh hell: porno, was mainstream suburban entertainment for a brief time, distributors even advertised in Boxoffice® magazine; a topic we will explore here more slowly, methodically and rhythmically in coming weeks. Now, the history of exhibition is a twisty, windy thing and the story of the multiplex doesn't begin on one hot, sweaty summer night in 1977, but upon the sawdust floors of the penny arcade a century ago with a New Yorker named Marcus Loew. Now I'm not of a mind right now to render a complex and beautiful award-winning graphic (though I could) charting and chronicling the famous names, theatrical entities, mergers, divestitures, and shady transactions that shape-shifted, Optimus Prime-like, into the pornoless octomulticineplex in your town, but the end product of such an exercise would feature this name: Garth Drabinsky in big Pantone® color-matched letters. Though the story of the multiplex begins with the sounds and flavor of Coney Island it reaches its full ice wine bloom in the Great White North with a man the U.S. Government would like to put behind bars; a wanted fugitive from justice who just last week was a judge on Canada's most popular new reality show. The theatrical impressrio responsible for such stage hits as Ragtime and Fosse is the recipient of Canada's highest civilian honor, the Order of Canada, yet if he ever makes a quick trip to Detroit to watch the Red Wings play the Maple Leafs, we'll throw him in chains and not for being one of the inventors of the multiplex; but for 'aggressive accounting', whatever that may be. Money is not within my area of expertise. Drabinksy was a young Toronto lawyer when he partnered with Canadian movie industry pioneer N. A. Taylor to create the newest, grandest movie-going experience ever: a cinema complex with movable walls, computerized ticketing, staggered start times, one giant concession stand and eighteen screens. All in a shopping center's basement. And they called this, this thing: Cineplex. It was this adventure that lead to Drabinsky, et al to merge with Canadian Odeon Theatres. Ten years ago, Cineplex Odeon merged with Loews delivering to us Loews Cineplex Entertainment. In 2006, Loews Cineplex merged with AMC, founded 80 years ago in Kansas City (where we started at about the same time), to bestow upon me the AMC Loews Alderwood Mall 16 Theatrimetrocinecomplexotron. O-rama. So, if you want to know whom to blame just click here. K 220 45888]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/sexy-time-at-the-octomulticine.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/11/sexy-time-at-the-octomulticine.php Sun, 04 Nov 2007 00:07:30 -0800 The Untouchables taught us that clean cut Fed Elliott Ness threw Al Capone enforcer Frank Nitti off a building after Nitti told the G-Man that Ness's Irish cop friend Malone died screaming like a stuck pig. As Nitti fell shrieking to his death, Ness shouted, "did he sound anything like that?!" The irony of that bit of movie malarky is this: Frank Nitti was actually killed by motion pictures. In the spring of 1943, Frank Nitti, figurehead of the Chicago Outfit, walked several blocks south from his home to a railyard and tried to fire a thirty-two caliber lump of lead into his brain pan. He missed. His second try was high and outside (perhaps taking his cue from beleagured Sox pitcher Eddie Smith who wild-pitched his way to 20 losses in '42). With two holes in his hat he sat down and gave it another shot. Third time's a charm, as they say. Nitti was motivated to fire a pistol sorta, kinda aimed at his skull by his absolute panic at having to do a significant stretch in the concrete corral for extortion. Nitti was scheduled to testify in front of the Grand Jury the following day. Nitti, along with colorfully named toughs Handsome Johnny, Cherry Nose and The Waiter, was indicted after a large living associate, Willie Bioff (who died spectacularly - but that's for later), ratted him out. Bioff and his dim-witted pal, George Browne, had been getting rich since the early 1930s via a nifty extortion operation; and the target of their little bit of genius entrepreneurship was the fledgling movie business; specifically, Chicago movie palace owners. A decade or more before Nitti met up with Capone in the South Side of Hell, Bioff and Browne were buffalo nickle and diming along the main streets of Chicago. If they had had a brochure, it would have said this: "Why have your theater burn down to the ground when you can have the promise of protection from labor strife from B & B for just thousands a year?" Bioff and Brown did so well they angled their aim a little higher: the Balaban and Katz theater organization. Bioff and Browne, by now infiltrating theater guilds and unions, extended this fine offer to Barney Balaban: donate $20,000 to our "soup kitchen" and wages will freeze. Oh, and your theaters won't burn down. Barney Balaban found the whole thing sort of hilarious. His thinking was this: these clowns are going to steal the money anyway, there will be no paperwork, my workers won't strike, and I can claim I donated $100,000 to the soup kitchen while pocketing 80k away from the gaze of the IRS. Balaban happily turned over the money - in cash. As Browne busied himself burrowing into the ranks of the theater workers union - he eventually rose to the post of President of the IATSE (you see their logo at the end of Hollywood movies) - Bioff made the monumentally dumb move of spending the ill-gotten dough in grand fashion at mob run casinos and yammering about it like a knucklehead. News of this spread up the mobster food chain to one mean man: Frank Nitti. Al Capone, prior to being carted off to the hoosegow, had broached the idea of raiding the tills of Hollywood to his minions. Nitti, recalling his former boss's fine notion, "invited" Bioff and Browne to his home. He made them an offer they couldn't refuse. Ensconsed in both the unions and the lovely palms of Hollywood, Bioff and Browne began their enterprise with upwards of 90% of their take going to Chicago. Though the thought of agitating Nitti certainly played a role, all of the major studios were happy to pay off the two nimrods for the simple reason that it saved them money. No labor strife, no uninterrupted production schedules, everything maintaining an even strain. The losers in all of this, of course, were the tradespeople; the workers. Now, here's where the movie business kills Nitti: The Chairman of the Board of 20th Century-Fox Film Corp., Joseph Schenck was the only studio chief who paid his tithe with a personal check. The President of the Screen Actors Guild, Robert Montgomery (father of Elizabeth), came upon a copy of the check and reported it to the IRS. Schenck sang like a bird and went to the slammer. Bioff sang like a canary so well that the Feds let him keep all the money, and Nitti blew his brains out before he could squeal like a stuck pig. Which brings us to this weeks's Timecode; a taste of Boxoffice's coverage of the trial of Joseph Schenck. And who better to put in his two cents? Six-time Oscar®-nominated screenwriter Ben Hecht, co-author of the most celebrated play about the newspaper business, The Front Page. Oh, I promised you a spectacular death. After doing a little time, soaking up some Arizona sun, and back slapping future senator and Presidential candidate Barry Goldwater, blabber-mouth mobster Willie Bioff retired with his big pile of dough to Las Vegas. In the fall of 1955, Willie climbed into his truck and turned the key. Tada! Now, go read this week's Timecode before I burn your home theater down and then come back and leave me some comments; I get paid by the comment. So far - 7 bucks. K 220 45888]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/10/the-motion-picture-the-untouch.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/10/the-motion-picture-the-untouch.php Sat, 27 Oct 2007 23:54:01 -0800 Spamalot in Seattle Friday night and I loved Spamalot - so, maybe I should vote Obama in the Washington State Primary (whenever and whatever that is); but, then again, my daughter's all-time favorite show is Cheers and Kelsey Grammer is jonesing for Guiliani - just a minute, hold the tapped phone: Grammer is starring with Patricia Heaton on a new show and Heaton is a conservative voter and sorta MILFy hot - maybe I should cast my lot with . . . whoa: hold on. Orson Bean gave a grand to Guiliani? Orson Bean? Seventh and a half floor Orson Bean? I love that movie. Okay, then it's Guilani for . . .let's not get hasty here: Kurt Russell, James Woods, Rip Torn, Angie Harmon (yes!), and Chuck-he can kill me with his icy stare-Norris all support conservative causes and I love them all; and Paul Newman, Tim Robbins, Michael Douglas, Joanne Woodward, Sean Penn, George Clooney all have freakin' Oscars! And winning an Oscar (or Emmy or Nobel Prize) means you are the smartest human in the galaxy (not counting moron du jour James Watson). Okay - I've made my decision: I support whomever Diane Lane supports, because I am in love with Diane Lane. Now - go read this week's TIMECODE, then come back and tell me what you think of celebrity endorsements. K 220 45888]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/10/raise-me-the-money.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/10/raise-me-the-money.php Sat, 20 Oct 2007 22:18:32 -0800 It's 2:32 AM Monday morning and we're still spinning plates on skinny poles like those acts Sullivan liked to book so long ago. Launching a web site is like racing toward the house as hundreds of bees have you targeted from behind. The difference is in the bee scenario you actually finally reach the house and safety and a nice cup of cocoa. So, as we try to nail all the corners of this thing down I invite you to turn the page and enjoy a sample of what's to come in my weekly Sunday blog—Timecode; a journey back through the archives of Boxoffice® magazine: the glitz, the glamour, and the gum under the seats. Now, I have to get back to running away from the bees . . . .we'll see you here next Sunday where I will regale you with tales of yesterday. Maybe I'll have some more photos of Bill O'Reilly. K 220 45888 GO TO THIS WEEK'S TIMECODE]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/10/welcome-to-your-blog-page-at-b.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/10/welcome-to-your-blog-page-at-b.php Wed, 10 Oct 2007 02:18:30 -0800 The Jerk - well, not the film . . . the trailer. And I tried like hell to track the trailer down, but no such luck. The trailers you see at various online sites is not the exhibitor-centric trailer reported on here. I seem to recalling seeing it prior to the film's release, but I'm having a brain cloud. K 220 45888]]> http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/10/a-2minute-world-premiere.php http://boxoffice.com/blogs/ken-bacon/2007/10/a-2minute-world-premiere.php Tue, 09 Oct 2007 01:13:36 -0800