Upstairs, Downstairs – Original Version Revisited

21. April 2014 · Comments Off on Upstairs, Downstairs – Original Version Revisited · Categories: Domestic, Random Book and Media Musings

OK – so, since we are now almost a year into giving the heave-ho to cable TV, and busily exploring the delights available through Hulu/Amazon Prime/Acorn, I took it into my head that I should like to watch the original Upstairs, Downstairs series. The very first season of this, which aired on Masterpiece Theater when it was hosted by Alistair Cooke, was seriously truncated when it showed on PBS … which was when I was in college, umpty-umph years ago. Not only did I miss seeing most of the first season, but I also missed absolutely all of the last season,  through having enlisted in the Air Force and promptly been assigned overseas. That was the season which romped through the post WWI decade. Very likely I missed other episodes throughout the run of the program. Although I regretted this, I have always declined to spend however much it would cost to buy the entire series of Upstairs, Downstairs, no matter how much I wanted to watch it and no matter how much it is marked down through Amazon specials, or considered in comparison to How Much It Would Have Cost When First Made Available. (Yes, I laid out an ungodly sum of money for the VHS set of Jewel In The Crown, which I watched again and again and thoroughly enjoyed, but never again shall I spend more than I did then for a costume mini-series. So, bite me, vendors of classic TV series – I will wait and wait and wait until the ones that I want are available in slightly-used DVD editions. Or on streaming internet … yes, where was I? Oh – Upstairs, Downstairs.)

First off, my daughter says that she hopes that producers, writers and show-runners for Downton Abbey are paying a mint, or at least giving the original producers miles and miles of artistic credit and acknowledgements. Downton has re-used sooooo many characters and situations. They’re probably in public domain these days, though – so never mind.

Yes, it is screamingly obvious that the first season was produced on the cheap – and very obviously on a set; outdoor shots were at a bare, bare, bare and almost daily soap-opera minimum. My daughter even noticed the walls shivering slightly, whenever a door slams. Outdoor scenes only begin occurring in the second season, wherein Miss Lizzie’s marriage is turning to dust and ashes. There’s a lot more indoor-to-outdoor scenes at that point; obviously there’s more in the budget, and the producers pretty much established the cast below-stairs that would carry on for the next four.

But dear god – what they had to do for the female leads’ costumes. Not so much for downstairs; plain black or pastel-colored long-sleeved dresses with elaborate aprons – hard to mess up the working costumes of the female working class way back then. Their get-up was obviously uniform and practical. But for Upstairs, they obviously, went into some vast internal closet for long dresses that at a squint appeared vaguely Edwardian. A good few of Lady Marjorie’s costumes look as if the costume department had cornered a herd of wild 1960s upholstered furniture, slaughtered them whole-sale, skinned them, and made her dresses from their pelts.  It’s bad. How bad? I frequently spotted my own particular bête noir when it comes to period pieces; obvious zippers up the back. No – in my admittedly less than expert study of female costume, circa 18th-19th-early 20th centuries … zippers did most emphatically not figure. They fastened in just about every other way and in every other place than a zipper up the center-back seam. Trust me, when I tell you this. Let this particular book – Nancy Bradfield’s Costume in Detail be a guide, should you wish further enlightenment.  I leaned on it rather heavily, in working out Lady Isobel’s wardrobe in Quivera Trail; my own take on the perils and challenges of Upstairs and Downstairs. Otherwise – I am enjoying renewing my acquaintance with the series, and if memory serves, the latter seasons did get very much better as popularity of the series grew.

Off and Away

14. January 2014 · 6 comments · Categories: Book Event, Old West, Random Book and Media Musings

Well, after procrastinating for a good few weeks, scribbling another Lone Star Sons adventure, and playing around with photoshopping a cover for another collection of essays, I got started on The Golden Road – this will be the picaresque California Gold Rush adventure that I always wanted to write. In The Adelsverein Trilogy it was alluded several times that Fredi Steinmetz had gone to California with a herd of cattle …who knew that cattle had been taken over the southern route from Texas to San Diego in the mid-1850s to supply the gold mines? I didn’t, until I read of it in The Trail Drivers of Texas. Anyway, it’s mentioned casually a couple of times that he knocked around the gold mines for a bit and then wandered home again.

So – in keeping with my plan to continue exploring the western Barsetshire, and write the adventures of various minor characters as they star in their own book – this is Fredi’s turn to cut loose. And the venue – California at the heights of the Gold Rush is also a pretty wild and woolly scene, with all kinds of interesting, eccentric, and later-to-become famous characters wandering around … here goes. It is in my grand plan to make this my book for November, 2015. It seems to take me about two years to research and write (sometimes simultaneously, as I have a wonderful idea for a plot twist, and then have to hurry to the reference materials to see if that twist is even historically possible.)

I wrote the first draft of To Truckee’s Trail in a white-hot blaze of energy over the space of three months – but then, that was a book that I had been thinking about for years, and limited as to space and time. The Trilogy did take only two years – but that was essentially one humongous story, later sliced into three helpings. The other books – all seemed to fall together at one or two years, from start to final edit, even when I was working on some of them simultaneously. There are authors who can spin out a book a year, but … those always seemed to me to be a bit mechanical, and the books produced were nothing that any but the most devoted fans could fall upon with happy cries of joy. The authors who take two years, or even three years – well, the work is most usually worth the wait. And yes, this schedule has been kicked around in writer discussion groups for as long as I have been paying attention to them. So – herewith begins the new adventure – and I will, as usual, post the occasional sample chapter, as they are written.

Hurray for Hollywierd!

13. January 2014 · Comments Off on Hurray for Hollywierd! · Categories: Random Book and Media Musings · Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

One of the underappreciated sidelights of having grown up in Southern California was seeing bits and pieces of it masquerading (sometimes quite unconvincingly) as someplace else on TV. You may know, for instance, that all those times on the original Star Trek that Kirk and Spock set down on a planet where they actually went out to a real non-studio set location, it always seemed to be an area north of the San Fernando Valley called Vasquez Rocks. The area is distinguished by all the rocks being round, from the largest boulders down to the tiniest pebble, which makes the place look quite weird and unearthly… but embarrassingly distinctive. If the location sports scrubby chaparral and all round rocks, they’ve been out to Vasquez Rocks again, no matter what the show is and what the plot calls for.

I don’t know how many times I saw the same stand of papyrus swamp at the County Arboretum standing in for some Third World pretense of a nation on Mission Impossible, which along with Fantasy Island always made good use of that ornate little white cottage with the porches all the way around. It’s the guest cottage on the old Lucky Baldwin estate, and I don’t care how big you think it looks on TV, it actually is only about the size of a two car garage, and has only four teensy bedrooms.

Other fortuitous spottings included seeing the Oviatt Library, on the campus of Cal State Northridge (a facility in which I practically lived for two years) masquerading as a Cylon installation on the original Battlestar Galactica. The Fine Arts facilities at Cal State Northridge also doubled regularly on Medical Center as (wait for it) a medical center. Stumbling over a production crew doing exterior shots was just one of the advantages of an education there. I also once spotted a corner of Foothill and Commerce in Tujunga pretending to be some little town out in the sticks in Lou Grant, and recognized it only because it was close to my bus stop. And when the 210 Freeway was being built in sections, a particular  two or three mile stretch of it through La Crescenta and Tujunga was about the last to link up with the other stretches. This made it a popular venue for chase scenes, especially for CHIPS, the notorious Erik Estrada vehicle. They would film a hell-for-leather car chase up one side of that stretch…. and in mid-chase, suddenly be going hell-for-leather in the other direction.

There were a lot of car chases inexplicably changing directions; I recall another one along Roscoe in Sun Valley, which spun into the parking lot of a large Hispanic grocery store, and went back the way it came. If you’re blocking off a goodly length of street, it only makes sense to use both sides of it, but it still gave fits of the giggles to people who knew the area. The rattle-snake ridden cottage where JP and I lived as small children was once used for a week as a location set, to the great amusement of my parents. So far out in the hills, and isolated from other houses, it made a perfect hideaway for an escaping gunman on the old Highway Patrol series… and the leftovers from the generous catered meals on the set augmented the food budget rather nicely, as Dad was in graduate school at the time. Mom and Dad said for years afterwards that the sheer amusement value of watching Broderick Crawford’s male nurse keeping him away from the alcohol more than made up for the inconvenience of lights and cameras, and having to keep quiet and out of the way.

When I began to travel, I became even more sadly aware of just how much the usual locations didn’t look anything like the places they were supposed to be: Korean hills, for instance, were jagged and steep, and bright green in summer, not rounded and dull green, as they appeared on MASH. Spotting a eucalyptus tree in what was supposed to be the Normandy countryside wrecked otherwise carefully constructed believability, just like seeing California live oak trees in the alleged mid-West. Southern California could pass convincingly as the Mediterranean, though —  given the right sort of background architecture. Greece, Southern Italy, Southern France, and Spain any place where olive trees and oleanders thrive could be duplicated in So-Cal. Provence and the Pellopponese felt halfway familiar to me on that basis; that and the propensity for brush fires.

Eventually TV producers tried harder (either that or to save money) when it came to locations. They might not have gone all the way to Alaska to do Northern Exposure, but at least they went farther than the San Fernando Valley. Audiences may be savvier, too; I am sure lots of other people recognize Vasquez Rocks, too. But there is still the thrill of recognizing a location when watching a vintage television show … most especially when it was supposed to be someplace else.

Looking to Spring

06. January 2014 · Comments Off on Looking to Spring · Categories: Book Event, Random Book and Media Musings, Uncategorized · Tags: ,

My author tableWell, I have been in colder places in my time, and places were it got colder longer, but most of them involved show, and shoveling massive amounts of it … or that year in Greenland, thirty miles north of the Arctic circle, which didn’t have all that much show, but was dark as the bottom of a coal mine for all the days of the winter months. I can handle temps in the teens and twenties very well, thank you, but I think I had better get out that Eddie Bauer parka, the insulated gloves, woolen hat and the warm scarf to wear when walking the dogs tomorrow.

So, the month-long holiday hurdles have been negotiated successfully, the turkey leftovers finally disposed of, the Christmas lights and ornaments all taken down – and here I am ready to face the New Year. As far as book events go, the biggie is the San Antonio Book Festival in early April. Watercress Press is going to have a booth in the exhibitor’s hall, and as one of their authors, I’ll be there. It’s only the second time the SA Public Library foundation has done this kind of thing so there is something to be said for getting in on a lower floor. And Watercress has been around for thirty years in San Antonio; one would think that a bit of respect for seniority would be due.

I’m rather looking forward to it, since I have been trying to gin up interest in my own books in San Antonio. I love the Hill Country, and I’ll go anywhere within reason to do a book event, but with the cost of a tank of gas, and considering the needs of the dogs, it would be fantastic to do a book talk within a fifteen or twenty minute ride of the house. Weirdly, the books seem more popular practically anywhere other than the place they were written – and in the case of The Quivera Trail, the location where they were set. For a while, The Adelsverein Trilogy was on sale in the bookshop at the Texas Institute of Cultures, but that was about as good as it got. Readers have also suggested  the Texas Book Festival – I’d be eligible to exhibit there as an indy author, but last time I looked into it, the costs for a booth there was way out of what I could pay – and again, there is that long drive involved.

But I am going to club together with my daughter’s Tiny Artistic Bidness, Paper Blossom Productions for a couple of market events; the spring market in Helotes for certain, and another in Bulverde possibly. I’ll post more on all of this as soon as we know for certain.

Spoiled for the Movie

26. December 2013 · 2 comments · Categories: Old West, Random Book and Media Musings

I’ve written now and again of how I’ve been spoiled when it comes to watching movies set in the 19th century American west – also known as Westerns – by my own knowledge of the setting and time. Yes, if a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, a lot of it is like the Tunguska Explosion, with pretty much the same results – even if the movie in question is one of those high-cost, well-acted, beautifully filmed award-winning extravaganzas.

The latest movie which has been destroyed for me is Dances With Wolves – which we decided to watch the other night. Beautiful-looking movie, scenic panoramic sweeps of the Northern Plains, attractive and interesting actors – especially those portraying Sioux – and as for the look and conduct of the tribe as portrayed? I’ve always thought there was nothing better for getting an idea of what a Sioux village and it’s inhabitants looked like in the mid-19th century. No, really – it was marvelous, almost a living history exhibit; everyone was always doing something; working, recreating, celebrating. Alas – everything else about Dances just falls apart on closer examination.

What was the purpose of Fort Sedgwick, abandoned out in the middle of the plains? US Army forts were established along the overland trail to serve a purpose – protecting commercial and emigrant traffic, mostly. An army post just sitting out there with no mission, off and away off the beaten track? Logical fail number one. During the Civil War, protecting traffic and communications between the Far West and the North was of prime concern – especially since the more hostile western tribes realized that the pickings were good with the Federal Army withdrawn from all but a few strategic posts. I should note that the Pawnee, as farmers who did some buffalo hunting on the side, were also long-time foes of the Sioux. But they had been pretty well decimated by epidemics and warfare with the Sioux well before the Civil War even began. The Pawnee were still fighting the Sioux, though … being recruited from their Reservation to serve as US Army scouts, and they were not bopping around the Northern plains attacking Army teamsters, either. Logical fail number two.

Logical fail number three is that by the 1860s, it just isn’t historically credible for an Army officer to ‘go native’, as it were, and join an Indian tribe. Hostilities between the various tribes and the whites had gone too far by then; there was too much bad blood on the ground and ill-feeling in the air. I will concede that it certainly could have happened at an earlier stage, depending on the tribe and the eccentricity of the individual, and the battle lines not so firmly drawn. The early mountain men cheerfully and openly joined various friendly tribes, and certainly other men whose work or wanderlust led them into the trans-Mississippi west during the 1830s and 1840s would have been likely candidates for adoption as adults into a tribe.

Given my urge to try and tinker with a narrative like this in order to ‘fix’ these and other inconsistencies, I looked at Dances and thought about how I would have tweaked it and made the story historically consistent. It could have been done quite easily by making Lt. Dunbar a traumatized survivor of the Mexican-American War – which would move the story back in time almost twenty years, to when there were just a handful of American outposts in the Far west. Give him an assignment to survey a portion of land which the Americans had won from Mexico – and there were a number of surveying and exploring missions going on at that time. Get him separated from the rest of his group, and stranded in the wilderness … and play out the rest of it as written. This strategy might not have resulted in a better book or movie – but it certainly would have satisfied me.

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