Don’t Go to Pemberley

Warning:  This review may contain plot spoilers, although I’ve done my best to avoid them.

After being on a long wait list, I finally read P.D. James’ Death Comes to Pemberley this week.  I really love Pride & Prejudice, so a murder mystery using Austen’s characters seemed like a fun idea.  I’ve read most of the previous mysteries by P.D. James, and I admire her work.  I didn’t read any book reviews in advance, but I did glance at the readers’ ratings at Amazon.  They were pretty evenly divided across the range from “love it” to “hate it.”  I’m afraid I have to agree with the folks that gave it two stars out of five.  I forced myself to finish the novel because I wanted to find out whodunit, but it was a trial.

My problems with Death Comes To Pemberley are directly related to what I love about Pride & Prejudice.  I so enjoy the intelligent conversations between the characters, especially Darcy and Elizabeth.  I don’t know if people ever really spoke like that, but it’s a lost art.  P.D. James is not able to re-create anything close.  Most of the conversations in her novel are dull, describing actions instead of being real dialogue.  Here’s what Darcy has to say to Elizabeth on page 150: “Lady Catherine, as expected, has passed on the news to Mr. Collins and Charlotte and has enclosed their letter with her own.  I cannot suppose that they will give you pleasure.  I shall be in the business room with John Wooller but hope to see you at luncheon before I set out for Lambton.”   Worse, Elizabeth and Darcy are rarely together, so they have very little connection with each other.  Elizabeth is the perfect wife, going about her wifely duties and taking morning visits to the nursery, but apparently a married woman can no longer take part in anything interesting.  Because she’s so darn respectable, Elizabeth cannot attend the inquest or the murder trial.  She’s not even in the room when “all is revealed.”  Here is a book by a woman based on another woman’s book featuring some of the best female characters in literature, and all the women are relegated to the background.  Perhaps James is more comfortable writing about male characters like Darcy, Wickham, and Colonel Fitzwilliam, but I miss the ladies.

The central mystery isn’t all that engaging, and the description given on the book jacket is deceptive.  Almost every character has a solid alibi, so there are very few suspects.  No one character takes on the role of “sleuth” to solve the murder.  By the time the same characters have given the same testimony to the magistrate, the coroner, and the trial lawyers, I just wanted it to be over.  There are some contradictions in the details, which should have been caught by the editor.  On page 68, it’s said about the murder victim, “He’s not a heavy man.”  Later, on page 101, it reads “[The victim] was a heavy man.”  A general editing error appears on page 130: “It was consider that either Colonel the Viscount Hartlep or any member of the Pemberley household could have had any part in [the victim's] death.”  Huh?

I’m going to finish by simply letting the book speak for itself.  This is one of the longer speeches in the novel, given by the Pemberley housekeeper to Elizabeth on page 70:

“I will sit with Mrs. Wickham until Dr. McFee arrives, madam.  I expect he will give her something to calm her and make her sleep.  I suggest that you and Mrs. Bingley go back to the music room to wait; you will be comfortable there and the fire has been made up.  Stoughton will stay at the door and keep watch, and he will let you and Mrs. Bingley know as soon as the chaise comes into sight.  And if Mr. Wickham and Captain Denny are discovered on the road, there will be room in the chaise for the whole party, although it will not perhaps be the most comfortable of journeys.  I expect the gentlemen will need something hot to eat when they do return, but I doubt, madam, whether Mr. Wickham and Captain Denny will wish to stay for refreshments.  Once Mr. Wickham knows that his wife is safe, he and his friend will surely want to continue their journey.  I think Pratt said that they were on their way to the King’s Arms at Lambton.”

An Aztec Prayer

(These horses were near Clifden in Galway, Ireland.)

Oscar Notes 2012

Katydid, my good friend and an occasional guest blogger, sent me her Oscar notes this year.  Another round of just my impressions would be boring.  We didn’t compare notes during or after the broadcast, except for a few tweets during the ad breaks.

Ugly Bug:  Okay, so this year’s Academy Awards left me feeling strangely unfulfilled, and I don’t know why.  I’ve only seen The Descendants and Midnight in Paris, and I wasn’t cheering for any particular actor or film.  That’s been true for many other Oscar nights.  I still usually feel a little more enthusiastic.

This year’s celebration of 2012 seemed so generic.  The film montage after the first pair of awards, featuring clips from Star Wars, Rocky, and other classics, was a nice but non-specific salute to…the movies.  Now, the Oscars are movie awards, but shouldn’t there be some kind of focus?  Granted, it gets annoying when they choose some theme and try to force everything to conform to it, but this year they went too far in the other direction.  Even the presenters were the same old gang, with the notable exception of Emma Stone.  I love Emma.  Why does Cameron Diaz always present?  Why couldn’t they get Ryan Gosling?  With most of the nominees this year being first timers, they could have done so much more with that.

I did enjoy Billy Crystal’s opening film sequence, where he kissed George Clooney, ate some questionable pie in The Help, and confounded Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.  Cruise looked terrible in the film clip, but he was much better later when he presented the best film award.  Justin Bieber’s appearance was self-mocking enough to be tolerable.

Most years I get a little bored during the performances of all the nominated songs, but this year there were only TWO songs!   I’ll admit it.  I would have enjoyed seeing the muppets sing and dance.  Was anybody else disturbed by Kermit’s voice?  I know Jim Henson is gone.   I should have been prepared for the difference.  Oh, and couldn’t they raise the microphone for Bret McKenzie, the “Man or Muppet” songwriter?

There were two best moments for me.  I was very moved when Octavia Spencer and Christopher Plummer won the Supporting Actor awards.  I was responding to the reception they received from their peers more than anything else.  Spencer was barely able to speak, and Plummer was all gracious charm.  I’m delighted for both of them.

It would be easy to groan at Meryl Streep winning for Best Actress, but it has been thirty years since she’s won.  I guess she was due.  When it came down to the wire for Best Actor, I found myself actually wishing Gary Oldman would win.  I knew he wouldn’t, in spite of the announcer who laughingly said going into an ad break, “there are no clear favorites in this year.”  Jean Dujardin was charming and very handsome in color.  It was amazing how many times we heard French-accented acceptance speeches, between the wins for The Artist and some of the Hugo nominees.  It surely must be some sort of record for the French.

The most annoying moment was when Robert Downey Jr and Gwyneth Paltrow wasted so much time with their awkward introduction to Best Documentary.  Then the winners had their acceptance speeches cut off.  Winning an Oscar is a Really Big Deal, and it’s not fair to let the stars ramble away while cutting off the people who have earned their moment in the limelight.  Sometimes the best speeches come from the folks we’ve never heard of.  I thought one of the sound editors for Hugo (either Philip Stockton or Eugene Gearty) gave one of the funniest speeches of the night.  Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy, winner for the Documentary Short Saving Face, was especially moving.  Another treat was the Irish father and daughter, Terry and Oorlagh George, who won for the Live Action Short The Shore.

The three screenwriters for The Descendants gave a strange but cute little bow at the beginning of their speech. [I now know they were mimicking Angelina Jolie]  It was wise of them to let just one writer talk.  Woody Allen didn’t attend, and I was honestly shocked that Midnight in Paris won for Best Original Screenplay.  I’m sorry, I know lots of people who thought it was a fantastic film.  I thought the relationship between the writer and his fiancee was so obviously toxic, it spoiled the balance for the writer trying to choose between different worlds.

Okay, so how many reaction shots do we need of George Clooney?  I like the guy, I really do.  Was he the only star in the audience?  I didn’t count how many times the camera turned to him, but they even cut away from the Cirque du Soleil performers to show him once again.

I was most disappointed in the In Memoriam montage.  It usually moves me to tears, but this year I was distracted by technical issues.  I’m glad they included so many behind the scenes folks, but I found the print really hard to read in the montage.  By the time I deciphered the name and what the person did, the screen had already cross-faded to the next person.  “What A Wonderful World” was not a fitting choice for the accompanying song.  Surely they weren’t saying it’s a wonderful world now that you’re no longer in it?

The Artist was the expected winner, so I wasn’t surprised when it won.  The Best Picture award didn’t seem like much of a climax, though.  The speeches were given, and then Billy Crystal waved and said it’s over.  When the camera pulled out to show the audience, it didn’t look like anybody in the audience was celebrating a great evening.  I felt tired rather than elated.

I congratulate the winners, especially all the first timers.

*    *    *    *    *

Katydid: Oh boy, another year of Oscars is completed.  Not sure why, but the older I get the less I seem to care about watching The Academy Awards.  Maybe because I have less time to see the nominees, or maybe because no matter how hard The Academy tries the show just seems to fall flat year after year.  I was happy to see Billy Crystal host (I mean, who could do worse than James Franco last year?), but I honestly had no expectations he would be able to revamp the Oscars.  Yet despite the show’s inability to hold my complete attention, I still watched it in its entirety (while jumping over to Twitter on occasion, I admit).  Here are my thoughts.

—Favorite winners:  Octavia Spencer.  I was also happy to see Hugo win big for the technical awards.  That film looked amazing onscreen.

—Best acceptance speech:  Hands down, Christopher Plummer.  I mean seriously, how cute was his speech!?  Meryl Streep tends to ramble endlessly during her speeches, but hers was genuine and made me chuckle.

—Funniest moments:  First, watching Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis play the cymbals.  Second, when Melissa McCarthy and Rose Bryne took a shot after hearing “Scorsese” shouted from the audience.  After watching Hugo win all those awards, I think his name was said more any other during the show.

—Weirdest moment:  Watching Angelia Jolie present the awards for screenwriting.  Did she just want to remind us all that she’s still pretty weird?  It was worth it, however, just to see Jim Rash mimic her after his win.

—Biggest surprises:  Jean Dujardin winning Best Actor.  I thought George Clooney had it in the bag, but to be honest, I’m not heartbroken that he didn’t win.  Also a bit surprised to see Meryl Streep finally secure that third Oscar.  After watching her be nominated year after year, it just seemed like tradition she would be passed over once again.  I didn’t see The Iron Lady, but I have no doubt that Meryl nailed it (as usual).

—Biggest disappointments:  The fact that Moneyball didn’t win a single award.  I didn’t expect it to sweep the night or anything, but I thoroughly enjoyed the film and wish it got some sort of recognition.

—Best Picture:  This year was a rare exception for me, because I was able to see six of the nine Best Picture nominees.  I find it ironic, however, that The Artist was one I didn’t see (it is saved in my Netflix queue, if that means anything).  But here were my favorites of the ones I did see (War Horse and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close were the others I missed).  These are ranked from most to least favorite:  The Help, Moneyball, The Descendants, Hugo, Midnight in Paris, and The Tree of Life.

My two biggest complaints of the night were the awful sound quality and having to sit through way too many montages.  At first I thought it was just my television, but a few tweets from others confirmed I wasn’t the only one hearing what sounded like tiny aliens translating the words to the language of their home planet.  As for the montages, I get that the theme of the evening was films, but so much time (and lack of progression) could have been saved by cutting out those random film clips and interviews.  I did appreciate the jokester who threw in that Twilight clip between films like Titanic and Ghost.

Overall, while I wasn’t too impressed with this year’s Awards, I was happy to see some of the films and actors I enjoyed go home winners.  Congrats again to Octavia Spencer, Meryl Streep, Christopher Plummer, the creators of Hugo, and the writers of The Descendants.

And lastly – a special thanks to Ugly Bug for letting me share my unimportant and random thoughts!

Thank YOU, Katydid!  We were pretty much in accord, but you’ve seen more of the films, and you mentioned things I didn’t.  (Thanks also for explaining what Jim Rash was doing.)  I think we make a darn good team.  At least we’re a better match than Anne Hathaway and James Franco!

Confessions of a Computer Junkie

I am an internet addict.  I once used the internet as a tool, but now spending time on the computer visiting the same sites repeatedly has become my primary form of entertainment.  Frankly, it’s not very entertaining.  I’m not reading books or watching movies the way I did before.  So, in order to break out of this bad habit, I’ve made a Lenten vow to cut the time I spend on the internet in half.  I’m not counting my work in photoshop, because that’s usually creative.  I’m also not reducing the time I spend writing, whether it’s for posts here or messages to friends.  These are too important and too satisfying.  It’s just not productive to check my visitor stats three times an hour, or twitter or facebook or email or ebay or YouTube.  So far, it’s working out okay.  I’ve read half a book in the last two days, and I’m even enjoying my time on the computer more than before.  I’m hoping that the time I spend away will result in more interesting blog posts, since the quality of what entertains me is reflected here.

I have another confession to make.  I spend way too much time on the internet correcting mistakes and submitting complaints.  I’m constantly removing my hands from the keyboard and telling myself, “You are not the internet police.  This is not your job!”  Here’s a good example.  Tonight my book club is discussing Willa Cather’s Death Comes For The Archbishop.  I got the book out of the library over the summer, kept it for nine weeks, and never got past page fifty.  We have a very good rule at book club—you can come if you haven’t read the book, but you can’t join in the discussion.  If I don’t go to enjoy the company, not to mention all the wine and snacks, then I’ll just sit at home browsing the internet again.  This morning I went to cliffsnotes.com (oh, the horror!) to read the summary in order to follow tonight’s discussion. There was a sloppy error in the synopsis, obvious even to someone who hasn’t read the book, so of course I had to submit a correction to the site.  Yesterday I complained to iTunes because I had to enter my credit card number and mailing address just to use the “like” button on an album page.  It’s bad enough that you have to waste time downloading an entire software package just to browse their store.  Spending less time on the computer will not reduce my urge to correct and complain, but I won’t have as much time to follow through.

I know I need to stay off ebay, but at least I rarely spend money there.  I have become fascinated by the selling of cancelled checks as “authenticated autographs.”  Seriously.  People are auctioning bank checks, either written to or by celebrities.  When they’re written to a celebrity, it’s the endorsement on the back that is the valued autograph.  Woe to any collector whose favorite celebrity had an accountant that used a rubber stamp!  My favorite so far is a check written by Elizabeth Montgomery (Bewitched) to a Hollywood grocery store in 1974.  It is the amount that intrigues me.  Back in 1974, you could buy an awful lot of groceries for $560.  Was she having a party?  Somebody has already purchased this gem, but not to worry.  There are two other checks written by Montgomery that are still for sale.  I can’t help wondering about the more recent checks, with account numbers, addresses, and driver’s license numbers on them.  They haven’t been blacked out and can be seen clearly in the images posted on the internet.  There really isn’t any privacy anymore.  Of course, with paypal and online banking, handwritten checks themselves will soon become antiques from another age.

The other night, I tweeted my intention to spend less time on the internet.  I woke up to find a whole bunch of new people following me on twitter.  Is this supposed to be an affirmation or a temptation?!

Update:  I got a friendly note from the webmaster at cliffsnotes.com thanking me for my correction.  ITunes sent a customer service survey asking me for my opinion of the response I never received about my complaint!

Books on Kindle

This week, I have been forced to stop ignoring the Kindle.  I’ve resisted electronic book readers for several reasons:

1. I can drop a book from any height onto any surface, and it still won’t break.

2. I can loan a book to a friend after I’ve read it.

3. I like page numbers.  It’s not the same knowing I’ve read 37% of a book.

Reason number 4 used to be that I couldn’t use a Kindle for library books, but that’s no longer true here in San Francisco.  I don’t understand why I still have to be on a wait list for an ebook, but that’s a discussion for later!

I finally decided to give the Kindle a try, so I borrowed one from a friend to read Dragon Solstice by Nance Crawford.  Now, my friend’s Kindle is really old.  I think it’s one of the first ones, so perhaps it’s not fair to judge all electronic readers based on this version.  I don’t like how often I have to hit the ‘next page’ button, even after setting the font as small as I can comfortably read.  I also don’t like how the screen goes black while the page reloads, which is hard on my eyes.  Perhaps these problems have been fixed in newer versions.  I’m hoping someone here will fill me in.

In spite of my issues with the Kindle, I really enjoyed Dragon Solstice.  It’s a fairy tale adventure about a misunderstood dragon and a feisty little girl who get a bit lost in the forest and end up…no, sorry, I don’t do plot spoilers.  It’s a charming story, suitable for children but with plenty of wry humor for older readers.  It would make a good bedtime story read in chapters, since it’s not scary or violent.  At least, I think it would, since I don’t have any kids to try it out on.  If I did have children, I wouldn’t stop reading to them after they graduated from picture books.  I have great memories of my mother reading us books we could have read by ourselves, especially Roald Dahl’s James and The Giant Peach.  It would have given me the creepy-crawlies on my own, but having my mother read it made it tolerable.  I still love a good adventure, but I definitely prefer friendly dragons to giant bugs.  Dragon Solstice is at Amazon for Kindle and in paperback, and you can visit the author at www.NanceCrawford.com.

the Chatto & Windus hardback and the Vintage paperback

While I was browsing books at Amazon this morning, I decided to check the listing for 18 Folgate Street: The Tale of a House in Spitalfields.  It was written by my uncle, Dennis Severs, and I did the photography (not the illustrations—Amazon has that wrong).  It’s been out of print for years, so I occasionally look at the prices on used copies.  Today I found a copy of the Vintage paperback selling for $999.00.  The real surprise was discovering that the book is now available in a Kindle edition.  Nobody told me!  Hopefully the color photographs will look okay on an electronic screen.

sorting slides at Random House

I still find myself wishing I hadn’t been so naive when I submitted my collection of slides to the publishers.  I assumed that the photos that I thought were the best would be the ones they would pick.  Instead, a number of dark, fuzzy photos were chosen along with some of my favorites.  An experienced photographer would have known to leave out the not-so-good ones.  Once I turned in my photographs and signed the contract, I didn’t have anything to do with the publishing process.  The editor sent me proofs and sample covers, so I did get to see how the book was progressing.  Just visiting Random House UK was amazing.  Everyone I met there was delightful, starting with Jeanette in reception.  The best part?  Visiting the editors and leaving with as many free books as I could carry.  All I had to do was gaze longingly at the shelves of new titles, and they’d invite me to take some.  It was a book lover’s heaven.

Should you download 18 Folgate Street to your Kindle¹?  I’ll be honest.  There are some wonderful things in the book, but it’s quirky.  My uncle’s strong personality comes through in his writing.  He was a born storyteller who avoided the written word due to severe dyslexia, until he decided to write his book.  He worked for years writing and revising, trying to find the best way to express his ideas on paper.  Sadly, he died before the book was published.  I think his prologue is the best chapter.  As for my photographs, some of them are terrific.  Some of them are not.  One of them is a complete mystery to me.  The color image on page 24 (firewood in baskets with a broom on the stairs) is a flash photograph, and it’s not mine.  All my photographs were taken using available light.  I don’t know where that one came from, and it’s been bugging me for ten years.  It’s great having my own blog, so I can get that off my chest!

To read more about my uncle and see photos of him and his house, click on his name in the category cloud or in the tags above.

¹Or iPhone, iPad, BlackBerry, Android, PC or Mac

Koyla

Here are some images from Koyla, the 1997 Hindi film starring Shah Rukh Khan and Madhuri Dixit.  It’s an over-the-top revenge romance, entertaining to those who can appreciate the ridiculous plot and Shah Rukh’s mullet.  I love these two actors.  Who needs another reason?

It Was Twenty Years Ago Today…

Well, maybe not exactly today, but this month anyway.  The lyrics from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band keep going through my head, as I think about the band I “joined” 20 year ago.  I had only been living in San Francisco for about a year when I went to an open mike night at a cafe on Haight Street.  One of the acts was a new band called New Grass Spirits.  I took some photographs, began following them, and before I knew it, I was living with some of them in a cramped apartment.  I became their “official photographer,” because I’m not musical and how else could I join a band?  The group broke up and re-formed more than once, changed their name to Straw Coyotes, and kept adding new members.   Everybody went their separate ways after a couple of intense years.   I have some amazing memories and a big box of fun photographs.  Here’s one of my favorites.

New Grass Spirits, San Francisco, 1992 (click to see sharper image)

Happy Anniversary, Kirk, Adam, Dhaivyd, Deana, and Kwame!

Les Misérables: The Day of The Understudies!

Once again, my friend Scolytinae brings us a review of the West End production of Les Misérables, after her excellent piece on the version with Alfie Boe as Valjean last autumn.  She and her husband braved the bad winter weather to see Ramin Karimloo in the role, only to be met with a few surprises:

Let’s be honest, you don’t actually need an excuse for a repeat visit to Les Misérables, but I must admit that the prospect of seeing Ramin Karimloo as Jean Valjean persuaded us to make a return trip only 4 short months after our last excursion.  So you can imagine our disappointment when on arrival at Queen’s Theatre, we were greeted with notices in the foyer stating that due to the indisposition of Ramin Karimloo, the role of Jean Valjean would be played by Christopher Jacobsen.

Settled in our seats, we philosophically decided that “these things happen.” As a Twitter user I knew that Ramin’s recent Japanese tour had taken a lot out of him and that he was struggling, but then came an announcement that the roles of Marius and Enjolras would also be played by understudies.  We looked at each other—this would definitely be a different show to the one we had seen last September!

However, I would now like to go on record to say that this was one of the finest performances I have ever seen.  Christopher Jacobsen was simply stunning.  A powerful actor as well as singer, he brought us a Valjean of contrasts—burning passion at the injustices he suffered, yet a quiet dignity as he determined to throw off his past, start again, and make things right.  Opposite the magnificent Hadley Fraser as Javert, it felt like a whole new dynamic had appeared as the two of them faced off against each other, on occasion speaking rather than singing some of their lines as they circled each other, vying for control of the situation.

I thought Hadley was fabulous when I saw him last year, but over the ensuing months, his Javert has evolved—still intractable and inexorably driven, but now almost a sense of vulnerability.  Valjean’s manner and treatment of him was just so far outside his view of the natural order that he simply could not cope.  There was a particularly poignant moment during the suicide scene where he sings “I am the law and the law is not mocked.” At this point, he valiantly tries to regain his control and composure by pulling his lapels together and buttoning up that iconic overcoat—magic.  Thunderous applause greeted both his featured songs, and rightly so. This man is a true performer.

Marius was played by the impossibly cute Fra Fee—and what a fabulous performance it was.  Such depth and emotion from one so young; I am not ashamed to admit to a few tears after “A Little Fall of Rain,” beautifully portrayed opposite the superb Alexia Khadime.  I’m sure my hubby won’t mind me saying that he reached for the tissues too at this point!  What a beautiful voice this young man has, and such presence on stage.  I sincerely hope he’s a name to watch out for in the future.

Enjolras was beautifully played by Scott Garnham, who led his students with an understated strength and authority.  I just loved the interaction between all the students, and Adam Linstead’s Grantaire was a triumph.  In fact, I was so impressed by everyone who stepped up to fill roles vacated by the leads.  If I have to be critical, and maybe I should to prove that I can be objective where Les Mis is concerned, the only weak spot was the youngster who played Gavroche. Whether it was down to nerves, I don’t know, but he had a rather shaky start, rushing some of his lines and throwing some away completely.  He did soon settle down, and there was a huge gasp from the audience during the scene where he was shot whilst collecting ammunition.  You know, I must be getting old, because both he and the young girl playing Cosette seemed so small and fragile, almost like they should be at home tucked up in bed rather than up onstage!!

If there were any negative vibes emanating from people who bought tickets expecting to see Ramin Karimloo, then Christopher Jacobsen certainly wasn’t affected by them.  It must be a daunting feeling to step onstage knowing that many people in the audience wish you weren’t there.  Christopher simply took the audience by storm, and seemed genuinely overwhelmed by his rapturous reception at the end.  So much so that, after taking center stage for a few seconds, he called the cast back onstage to join him for another bow, to happily acknowledge the lengthy standing ovation which was a fitting end to a truly incredible show.  A day of understudies it may have been, but it is a tribute to the depth of talent in British musical theatre that this didn’t matter one iota—we heard the people sing, and they were fantastic!

Thank you, Scolytinae!  It sounds like a great afternoon of theatre.  It looks like we’ll have to add Christopher Jacobsen, Fra Fee, and Scott Garnham to our growing list of favorite West End actors.

See also: Beg, Borrow or Steal to See Les Misérables

The Elusive Billy Hughes

I’ve spent the last three months doggedly pursuing my goal of watching all 168 episodes of The Rifleman (1958-1963).   With the help of a good friend willing to DVR and send along various episodes, I am down to just one (Heller).  I will be sad when there are no new ones left, but at least the episodes are worth watching repeatedly.  That’s why the series has been in continuous syndication for over 49 years.  I now appreciate the character actors who worked in the classic westerns of the period, and I’m fascinated by several of them.  I’m starting here with the youngest.

Billy E. Hughes Jr. (November 28, 1948—December 20, 2005) was a young actor whose father and uncle were both stuntmen in Hollywood.  Hughes was a small but sturdy boy who was cast in his first movie partly because he could carry a large dog (Ole Rex, 1961).  After a bicycle accident, a broken front tooth made him look like a real kid, so it became part of his distinctive appearance.  Hughes was an emotive, natural actor with an interesting blend of vulnerability and grit.  He had guest roles in many television series and did a handful of movies, mostly low budget productions involving other members of his family.   Hughes appeared in three episodes of The Rifleman in the later seasons: Long Gun from Tucson, Day of Reckoning, and most memorably, The Sidewinder.  He was also in three episodes of Gunsmoke: Milly, Reprisal, and Us Haggens, the episode that introduced the character of Festus (Ken Curtis).

Hughes may have found himself in the business because of his family, but he came to believe that he was born to act.  After a leading role in My Six Loves (1963) with Debbie Reynolds, many more offers starting coming in, and his career was set to take off.  Sadly, his family was going through difficulties, and Hughes was sent to live with his grandmother.  She wanted to get her grandson away from everything Hollywood, so she refused jobs on his behalf and threw away the scripts that were sent.  By the time Hughes was old enough to make decisions for himself, it was too late.  The entertainment business has a very short attention span, and most child actors are unwanted once they grow up.  Billy Hughes found satisfaction in his adult life from raising his son, but he acknowledged in an interview that he suffered from depression and a lack of direction.  He died in his sleep at the age of 57.

I refer to him as elusive because his work is so hard to find.  His three episodes of The Rifleman are not included in the 50 shown on hulu.com, and only a clip from Long Gun from Tucson is currently available on YouTube.  Only one of his movies, Stakeout!, is available on DVD, and it has serious quality issues.  Ole Rex is almost impossible to find in any form, although lobby cards can be found occasionally for sale on ebay.  I have not been able to find any of his other television appearances besides the three Gunsmoke episodes, which are all available on YouTube.  When I watch Billy Hughes in what little there is see, I can’t help wondering what he might have achieved if he’d been allowed the chance.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Other links:

Gunsmoke:  Milly (part one)   Reprisal (his one scene in part two)   Us Haggens (part one)  The other parts of each episode are linked to these.

Stakeout! (clips only)

The Law and Mr. Jones:  part 1     part 2

Wagon Train: The Eli Bancroft Story  part 1  (addition parts linked to first one)

IMDb page    wikipedia page      in memoriam page      riflemanconnors.com page

Note: In the book Growing Up On The Set by Tom and Jim Goldrup, the episode from The Rifleman which is described in the interview with Hughes is misidentified as Day of Reckoning.  It was actually Long Gun from Tucson, directed by Joseph H. Lewis.  The scene with Johnny Crawford is shown in two stills in the slideshow above.

Update: See the comment section for a link to a Lassie episode on YouTube.  Also, My Six Loves pops up on YouTube in various forms, often to disappear again.  Other new links are being added above, as I discover them.

Sweepin’ The Clouds Away

I’ve been listening to my Johnny Crawford Orchestra CD, Sweepin’ The Clouds Away, an album of vintage dance band arrangements from the 20s and 30s.  I decided to learn more about the bands and orchestra leaders that Johnny Crawford mentions on his facebook page, since I’d never heard of most of them.  I love the old photographs from that era, so I was inspired to put together this little video.  It’s much better viewed at YouTube, in full screen mode.