The post Adam Faith calling appeared first on THIS IS MY 1960s from Transdiffusion.

During the summer ATV signed Chevalier for two shows which gave British viewers the opportunity of seeing again the restrained charm of this internationally acclaimed artiste.

In September, Chevalier reached his 75th birthday. For over 50 years he has been on the stage. He made his theatrical debut in 1906. In 1914 he joined the French Army and was wounded in an early battle of the First World War. He was captured, and spent the remaining war years in a prison camp.

In 1919 he returned to the stage. This was the beginning of his fabulous career, which has taken him all over the world. His film career started in 1929 and in recent years he has made a number of films in Hollywood. Despite his 75 years, the now silver-haired Chevalier can still put over a love-song in his accustomed masterly style. He is one of the few artistes who can hold the stage alone for hours.

The famous broken-English accent, the irresistible grin and the straw hat at a rakish angle all have become Chevalier’s own trade marks. So, too, has “Louise”, the song he made famous and the one which has become his signature tune.

All over the world the name of Maurice Chevalier has been identified with romantic songs. Even today, it is rare for Chevalier to be allowed to leave the stage without singing at least one of these numbers.

He has worked in every sphere of the entertainment world. He has appeared before royalty many times in Command Performances. His artistry has captivated world-wide audiences.

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An example of this latter development was seen in a recent episode of ATV’s “private eye” series “77, Sunset Strip”.

In his air-conditioned offices in the heart of Los Angeles, Stu Bailey, senior partner in the private investigation company of Bailey & Spencer, suddenly found himself in need of vital information concerning a case on which he was working. He heard of a lead from a similar case reported in Honolulu.

In a matter of minutes he had made contact with his Hawaiian opposite number, Tom Lapaka (one of the “leads” in ATVs detective series “Hawaiian Eye”). The information he wanted was readily available and another piece had been fitted into the puzzle he was trying to solve.

Science has made possible this co-operation at great distance; but this incident also served to show the vastly different settings in which the stories told in two of the most popular series to come to the television screen are acted out.

For it is a far cry from the air-conditioned suite of offices where Stu Bailey and Jeff Spencer, “Rookie”, “J.R.” and the inimitable Roscoe -not forgetting the glamorous Suzanne — operate and have their headquarters to the tropical setting of the South Sea islands of their “Hawaiian Eye” counterparts.

Traffic passes outside the office in Los Angeles, bumper to bumper, but the pace is more leisurely in Honolulu. Being active businessmen as well as investigators, Bailey, Spencer and company must conform to wearing business suits. It is only when their inquiries take them “south of the Border” that they can exchange jackets and trousers for bush shirts and shorts. The order of dress for Tracy Steel and Tom Lapaka, however, is much more casual: their wardrobe consists mainly of linen suits, multicoloured “hot shirts” and panama hats.

When pressure of business demands some relaxation, the office staff at No. 77 have the nearby cocktail bar and restaurant of Dino’s in which to relax, there to listen to all that is latest in modern jazz, played by the resident trio.

Down Hawaii way, Tracy and Tom have their own swimming-pool, built into their office compound, and when the atmosphere surrounding a case starts rivalling the mounting temperature outside a cool plunge into the pool, with a “header” taken almost directly from their desks, can do much to get even the most complicated piece of investigation into perspective.

The pace they know out of doors is more leisurely —the climate demands this—and if road travel is almost as harassing as any Los Angeles driver has come to accept as being natural, the office’s pet taxi-driver, Kim, knows the back roads and unofficial short-cuts so well around the island that the two detectives are never likely to be delayed because of local, Hawaiian-style traffic jams.

When a case has been successfully completed and there is time to relax — even to celebrate another job well done — the laughing voice of songstress Connie Stevens is always on hand at the club at which she works to add to the pleasure of the occasion. Connie plays “Cricket” in the series. She may appear madcap, with a quaint choice in hats, but she cannot hide the fact that she wears her heart on her sleeve for the two private detectives.

That her typical woman’s jealousy has much to feed on is seen in the number of occasions when she must stand by and see her twin beaus become involved with some of the loveliest women ever to join a ship and sail south across the Pacific to romance, adventure and, sometimes, involvement in crimes of which they are the innocent victims.

To such lovely maidens in distress the services of Steel and Lapaka are always available. Though at times they may seem to fall under the spell of these beautiful women, with the added inducement of tropical nights, balmy breezes and Hawaiian-style music, their surrender is never complete. For their agreed principle of “business first” always prevents too many lasting complications, which, of course, is very much to the liking of the ever-hopeful “Cricket”.

Meanwhile, back at the “Strip”, the latest “77, Sunset Strip” series has seen Gerald Lloyd Kooksan III (“Kookie”, to the uninitiated) emerge as an investigator in his own right, with a distinct leaning towards using scientific methods of detection which no one who recalls the parking-lot attendant of two years ago with his undisciplined quiff of hair and a peculiar style of speech which earned itself the description of “Kookie talk” would have thought him capable. Certainly the two senior partners in the business have been surprised at the emergence of this “new Kookie” — but pleased, too, for here, now, is an additional and capable member of their investigation team.

Stu Bailey continues to grow wiser and more handsome as the grey hairs collect around his temples. He is still prepared to fly to the ends of the earth in pursuit of a clue. He still is given to setting female hearts a-flutter, but never finds the true girl (though Dorothy Provine came pretty close to providing the answer in one of this year’s stories!).

When not on the job, Jeff Spencer continues his liking for strumming his guitar as an accompaniment to the Latin love songs which he learned in an earlier chapter of his life.

Roscoe’s successes “playing the ponies” are no more marked than in previous years, though his contacts with bookies, race-track touts and all the other types of ne’er-do-wells who are attracted to the sport continue to be invaluable to the detective agency.

If “Rookie” has grown up, then the “hot-rod generation” have found a new champion in the new odd-job boy in the firm. His liking for a conversation in which initial letters take the place of words may occasionally confuse and irritate his colleagues, but he has already proved himself to Stu, Jeff and “Rookie” to be a handy six-footer to have around in an emergency.

Suzanne of the reception desk continues to blossom — in looks and in the more important parts she is given in the stories — which is a development to everyone’s liking.

It is true to say that life and business continues to flourish at 77, Sunset Strip, just as it does, thousands of miles away, in Hawaii.

There may be only occasional contact between the two organisations, but in one thing they have a common purpose: they provide excellent entertainment for British television viewers. And the vast correspondence which the two series — and the leading artistes in each — prompts from these viewers bears testimony to their popularity.

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Sociologists try to explain why this particular form of entertainment should have an attraction for television-viewers in all levels of society and income groups. Phrases like “escapism”, “boyish dreams”, “a regard for good” have been bandied around. What is certain is that Westerns are among the most lasting and popular of television programmes seen regularly on our living-room screen.

In the choice of “Bonanza” and “Rawhide” for viewers in the London and Midlands ITV regions this year, ATV has chosen Western series as different in their stories and settings as are the regular characters around whom the stories are told.

“Bonanza” relies on its family association for its impact. “Rawhide” reflects what can happen when a group of assorted human beings are thrown together to face different sets of circumstances secondary to their main job in life — getting herds of cattle from a ranchland to a market or railhead.

Yet, from these essentially different backgrounds, have emerged tales of personal hardship, of humour — even heroism — all of which go to make the good Western. It is in the tale which reflects one or more of these qualities that the Western relies for its success.

The Cartwright family, around whom “Bonanza” has been created, have had their share of adventures involving hardship, humour and no little amount of heroism. And in the process the four main characters have emerged as individuals, but still owing allegiance to the family. To his role of Ben Cartwright, actor Lorne Greene brings a mixture of fatherly wisdom and a knowledge of human nature based on years of experience of all types of people. He portrays a character who is called upon to be understanding and patient, yet tough when the occasion demands. In himself, Lorne Greene has many of these same qualities. He has acquired them in a career which has taken him from college dramatics in his native Canada, through radio and local stage work and Hollywood films to a way of life in which he feels as much at home in rancher’s clothes as he does in the slippers, casual slacks and open-neck shirt which await him at the Beverley Hills home which he shares with his young actress wife and to which he returns from the cardboard-and-make-believe setting of Virginia City after each day’s filming.

As the eldest Cartwright son, Adam, bachelor Pernell Roberts shows a liking for dark clothes which match his black hair and deep-set dark eyes. The part he plays calls for someone who never really shows his feelings, is even withdrawn. In some ways, this is true of the real-life Roberts. He likes nothing better than to lock himself up in his photographic dark-room, there to develop and print his photographs — for, after acting, photography is his great interest in life. It is not that Roberts doesn’t like people. In fact, the exact opposite is the case. But he likes seeing them reflected in the lens of his camera. Essentially an observer of life around him, he admits to having ambitions to be a photographic journalist — if he hadn’t become an actor, that is.

The character of Hoss is the exact opposite. Jovial, good-natured, everybody’s friend — these faithfully describe Dan Blocker, who plays the part. Big of heart, as well as of body, this giant Texan has always known what it is like to stand out in a crowd. He was the biggest baby ever born in his home county. Before he was ten he had begun to realise that his unusual physique and strength were such that he could well capitalise on them. At university he was a natural for the football team. And when, by chance, he was introduced to stage work it was soon obvious that he was ready-made for “husky” roles. Family man Dan Blocker likes nothing better than to be surrounded by his growing family — all of whom show signs of following Dad in size and stature. Among his close friends he is regarded as “a genial giant”. Perfect casting, then, for the role of Hoss.

The Cartwright family history tells of “Little Joe” as being the son born of Ben’s third marriage — to the daughter of a French family from Louisiana. With such a background on his mother’s side, “Little Joe” has to be gallant, quick-tempered and dashing, whether in a bar-room brawl or with an attractive young lady in his arms under a romantic moon. The “Bonanza” stories brought to the screen this year have found “Little Joe” in stories which call on him to display one or other of these qualities. New York-born Michael Landon is just right — in appearance and athletic ability — to match up to the situations (romantic and otherwise) in which he frequently finds himself as “Little Joe”. The determination he put into his desire “to be the fittest kid on the block” stood him in good stead when he had to rough it in Hollywood before the “Bonanza” break came his way. The soft life which is open to anyone in the film capital who “has arrived” has not deflected him from his “keep fit” passion. To prove himself, he spent days on a training session with a regiment of US Marines and so impressed the officer in charge of the assault course that he was made an honorary member of the corps afterwards. There is no denying the good looks which his “Bonanza” part calls for. The endless admiring fan mail from thousands of teenage girls bears witness to this.

This year’s “Bonanza” stories have told the life-story of Ben Cartwright and his three wives, each the mother of one of his sons.

In the “Rawhide” stories three men dominate the action. Eric Fleming is the lean, taciturn “boss man”, Gil Favor. Romance may never come to Favor, but somehow the impression is given that it could always be just around the corner, even in the next cow-town through which he pushes the herd of hundreds of cattle. For ex-sailor, 6ft.-4.ins. Fleming, voted by British housewives “the man we would most like to meet”, this is nearly true to life. A self-proclaimed bachelor, he likes girls, knows many of them who are mostly attractive “and interesting”, but to date has never found the “real one”.

Clint Eastwood — Rowdy Yates — is different. A lady in distress sends him rushing to her aid. Off the studio floor he did this once with lasting effect. An attractive blonde, Maggie by name, has been signing herself Mrs. Eastwood for the past seven years as a result.

Superstition has its place in show business. Among the “Rawhide” cast it is admitted that if Paul Brinegar, who plays the bearded bad-tempered “Wishbone”, ever really learns how to boil an egg his fellow artistes on the series could be out of a job. For the man who is seen every week serving up man-sized batches of beans and stew for his hungry co-stars admits to being an amateur in the kitchen. All his meals were taken in restaurants … that is, until this year. Then he met actress Shirley Talbott. A whirlwind courtship followed and as part of a near round-the-world honeymoon Mr. and Mrs. Brinegar stayed a few days at one of London’s plushiest hotels. But true to his off-screen reputation “Wishy” never ventured near the kitchen. Nor will he in his new Hollywood home!

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News on television is the greatest journalistic adventure of our time. Every day the television journalist has open to him new and revolutionary methods of carrying out the time-honoured task of getting the news — and getting it to the public.

In the place of the typewriter and the still camera he can use film and live television to let the public see for themselves events as they happen, or as they have recently happened. He can, too, by skilful interviewing, bring the public face to face with the men and women who make news. Under the direct and candid eye of the camera these people, whether they are the great of the land or just ordinary folk who get into the news once in a lifetime, can be seen and studied and understood directly and intimately instead of at secondhand through the descriptions of writers, artists or commentators.

This — and the many other methods and techniques which television has developed — are great gains for journalism and a great stimulus to it.

The men and women of ATV’s Midlands News Department and their counterparts the Independent Television News — ITN — can claim to have been very much in the forefront of the fight to create this new journalism.

On the seventh and eighth floors of Television House (a building which housed the Air Ministry during the Battle of Britain) ITN has its newsroom and its offices, its camera workshops and storerooms, its film processing and editing rooms, and a compact news studio fitted with the most modern equipment. Midlands News has a similar set-up in Birmingham.

On September 22nd, 1955, when ITV first went on the air, one major innovation had already been developed—the newscaster system. Under this, the news is presented not by readers but by newscasters — that is, by men of personality and authority. They are not just “personalities”. They are, above all, working television journalists whose authority stems from professional experience and skill, and who do their share of gathering and writing the news, as well as presenting it.

Television writing must, of course, match the story. The big stories must be written with force and authority; the lighter stories with gaiety and ease. And ITN newscasters seek whenever possible a “tailpiece” — some light, unusual, witty item with which to round off the bulletin.

The news which you see on your screens is made up of four components. These are:

1. Direct “live” news, where the news is shown in pictures as it happens. (This can be done by an outside broadcast, or by a studio interview.)
2. News on film or recorded on videotape.
3. News in words, read or spoken by the newscaster, reporter, or commentator.
4. News in diagrams, maps, animated designs and still pictures.

In direct “live” news, television is seen at its peak as a reporting medium. Outside broadcast cameras, stationed in this country, or with their pictures relayed from abroad by the Eurovision link, have been used to put news on the air at the very moment when it is occurring. This system has been used many times to present on-the-spot reports of rescue teams at work at air crashes and other disasters. When the Prime Minister returned from his tour of Africa, his speech at London Airport was carried directly into an early evening bulletin. In the 1959 General Election the returning officers in key constituencies gave, through live broadcasting, the news of the voting in their areas direct to millions of viewers at the same instant as they gave it to the crowds round their Town Halls. Home scenes such as traffic jams on Bank Holidays, the sit-down demonstrations in London’s Trafalgar Square, and the public’s reaction to Budget changes, have been broadcast directly into the news bulletins.

Studio interviews, in which people in the news are questioned in the studio, form an essential part of this live component. They have provided many memorable news moments: Miss Vivien Leigh telling her own story of how she interrupted the House of Lords to protest against the demolition of the St. James’s Theatre; Derek Ibbotson, just arrived from the White City and still in his track suit, watching a film of himself breaking the four-minute mile and then talking of how it felt to do so; Sir Edmund Hilary and Sherpa Tensing talking of the Himalayas; even a runaway monkey which had boarded a bus and the bus conductor who had found him riding on the top deck. Such people in the studio, all very much alive, made television news which in its turn was alive and vivid.

Recordings of live broadcasts rank at the top of the second component of television news — news on film or on videotape. One tremendous news moment after another has been caught and recorded from live broadcasts. Colonel Glenn in his gleaming space-suit climbing into the capsule at Cape Canaveral; Mr. Krushchev reporting to the Russian people after Vienna; Angela Mortimer giving Britain its first Wimbledon victory’ since pre-war; the Derby, followed yard by yard to the finishing post — these and many other news occasions have been captured by the videotape recorder and brought to the screen in news bulletins.

But though the outside broadcast cameras are supreme on the big, predictable occasion, they still take second place to film for day-to-day news coverage.

A foremost tool of the television journalist remains the 16mm. film camera. Small, highly mobile, highly reliable, able to record the sound as well as the sight of an event, these cameras have become the television reporters’ notebook. From its own staff of cameramen in London and Manchester and Glasgow, in Paris and Rome; from its freelance cameramen throughout the British Isles and in more than fifty countries overseas; from the cameramen of the regional news rooms of ITV companies — like Midlands News — and from the newsfilm service of the Columbia Broadcasting System of America, thousands of feet of film pour into the film department of ITN every day of the year.

In addition to the daily news bulletins, ITN staff are also responsible for producing “Roving Report”, a weekly programme dealing with news items and topics of interest from all over the world, and “Dateline”, a late-night review of important events.

When the film cameras can capture the very moment an event takes place they produce news of remarkable power. “See it happen on ITN” was a slogan from the early days of Independent Television.

Very many of these happenings have been breathtaking in their immediacy. Suez, with British tanks rumbling through the dusty streets on their way towards the Delta; a long column of Russian tanks in Hungary, filmed as they thundered remorselessly towards Budapest to crush the rising there; the American landing-craft heading for the Lebanese beaches in 1958, the ramps coming down and the US Marines storming ashore on to the beaches, crowded only a moment before with holidaymakers; Mr. Krushchev pounding a desk with his shoe at the United Nations, or wisecracking with reporters from a Fifth Avenue balcony; seamen being hauled ashore in a breeches buoy from a ship wrecked on the Scottish coast; the catch which gave Hampshire the county cricket championship; messengers sprinting from the Royal Exchange after a bank rate change; the crowd pelting the ground with bottles at the end of the first West Indies v. MCC test in Trinidad… these have been moments when film has brought the news to life
— the true alchemy of television.

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It was in ATV’s Saturday evening series “Man of the World” that he first caught the eye of a shrewd television executive who saw in his portrayal of a suave, devil-may-care rogue the possibility of something more than what is known in the business as a “oncer”. For the performance of Carlos Thompson, as he charmed his way through situations fraught with danger, was such as to spark off thoughts of a number of programmes reflecting similar escapades, set against backgrounds which could be international in their appeal.

The idea took root—and the “go-ahead” was given for a series of programmes. And the planners of the programmes were told that they had to stick closely to the character that had been created for that one “Man of the World” story. The hero had to be impeccably dressed; sophisticated without being foppish; attractive to women, yet of that stuff of which heroes are made; he must be witty, athletic and very much a man-of-the-world.

A tall order for a character. Equally so for whoever was to take on the role.

Carlos Thompson can truly be said to measure up to the requirements of such casting.

The Argentinian-born Thompson is tall (6ft. 2ins.), dark and handsome. He has been described as a Latin heart-throb. Although born in the heat of South America, he has made his home for a number of years in the cool “and ice” of Switzerland, where he lives with his film star wife Lilli Palmer—3,000 feet up a mountain. The very effort of getting up and down that self-same mountain answers the demand for athletic prowess. He is also robust and quick on his feet—and he has “been around”, having spent much of his adult life in the majority of the capitals of South American countries, in New York, London, and the bigger cities of Europe.

In “Sentimental Agent” he is shown as owning and running an import-export business called Mercury International which has ramifications all over the world. From his own personal experiences Thompson could well be suited for such a job in real life, for he is essentially cosmopolitan—in origin and in outlook. Despite the country of his birth— or perhaps because of it—he claims to be one quarter German, one quarter Spanish, one quarter French, and he speaks eight languages.

In his linen suit —or that cut by a fashionable Savile Row tailor when the occasion demands — his panama hat set at an angle which is neither rakish nor too lacking in character, and his inevitable, specially prepared cigar alight in its ebony holder (and this is his smoking preference as practised in real life), he is the embodiment of the male whom most women secretly hanker after, whom many women openly spend their life looking for.

It was one of the most beautiful women ever to grace the world’s cinema screens from Hollywood who first saw the potential in Carlos Thompson. He owes his career in the competitive world of filmland to the tempestuous Yvonne de Carlo. She it was who spotted him for his first English-speaking films. She lured him to the film capital in California to co-star with her in “Port Algiers”. Based on this picture — to which he had brought a tough apprenticeship in Argentinian films — he was given a Hollywood contract and hailed as a new heart-throb. Roles opposite Lana ‘Turner and Esther Williams followed. Starring parts in “The Flame and the Flesh”, “The Valley of the Kings”, “Magic Fire”, “Thunderstorm” and “Raw Wind of Eden” followed. Then he disappeared from the English-speaking screen.

Where had he gone? By his own admission he recalls: “The Hollywood-stvle life was not for me. I had to decide whether I wanted to return to Hollywood or be myself and live the sort of life I wanted”. He made his decision—and chose Switzerland as his home.

But this did not mean he was lost to films. Austria and Germany are within easy reach — after a tough journey on skis — from his 1800-built converted peasant’s chalet on the Swiss mountainside.

In these countries he has made eighteen films in the last ten years and established himself as one of the Continent’s most sought-after and popular leading men. Witness to this claim was shown while Carlos was on a quiet, private, sightseeing tour around London this spring as a break from househunting for his wife and himself for their stay in Britain to make the “Sentimental Agent” series.

As he strolled through Trafalgar Square, overcoat draped characteristically over his shoulder, cigar-holder at its jaunty angle, the eyes of some members of a visiting party of girls from one of Kent’s most proper finishing schools for young ladies noticed him. Immediately the long hours of training and insistence on decorum were forgotten. “Eet ees Carlos”, shouted the German, Swiss, Austrian girls in the group. In a moment deportment was forgotten and the smiling actor found himself surrounded by excited girls while he tried to keep up a conversation with them in the many different languages with which he was being assailed as his fans recognised him, demanded that he speak to them—of his films and of “home”.

Such is his standing on the Continent. Before long the distinctive accent of the English used in the North Country, in Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland, Birmingham and around Hampstead could well be added to this acclaim.

The son of a writer — his father was an Argentinian newspaper editor — Carlos Thompson is following in Thompson senior’s footsteps. His main hobby is writing. He has written many short stories and at one time seriously considered taking up writing as a career.

His home in Switzerland provides the ideal requirements for a man of letters: he has peace, air like champagne — inducive to good composition — and a wife who likes to read herself and who understands the needs of a creative mind… a far cry this from the role of the modern-day swashbuckler of “Sentimental Agent”.

But Thompson is an adaptable person. He has to be, for to every role he plays he brings his own instinctive interpretation. This is always realism. In ATV’s “Sentimental Agent” he is called on to draw on the vast experience that has been his career to date. One moment he is in danger, another he is in love, in yet another he is in a situation that taxes all his wit, ingenuity and charm — but without doubt he is always in the centre of things. In such situations he gives his all — and who can blame him? Always at the back of his mind, to relish and look forward to, is that snow-covered mountain retreat where visitors, if they have negotiated the difficulties of the journey, are always welcome; but he knows that the unexpected knocks on his thick oak front door will be few and far between.

Truly, a man with a mind of his own — and a place of his own — is Carlos Thompson, “Sentimental Agent”

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