RECENTLY VIEWED: LORNE

I just finished watching yet another great documentary! There are certain figures in entertainment who become larger than life precisely because they reveal so little of themselves. Lorne Michaels is one of those people. For more than five decades, he has shaped American comedy from behind the scenes, launching careers, influencing culture, and turning Saturday Night Live into a television institution. Yet the man himself has remained an enigma. The documentary Lorne attempts to pull back the curtain, and while it doesn't completely solve the mystery, it offers a fascinating look at one of television's most influential architects. 

Directed by Morgan Neville, whose previous work includes acclaimed documentaries about cultural icons, Lorne traces the journey of Lorne Michaels from his early days in Canadian television through the creation and evolution of Saturday Night Live. The film features extensive interviews with former cast members, writers, hosts, and collaborators including Tina Fey, Conan O'Brien, Chris Rock, Jimmy Fallon, Maya Rudolph, Kristen Wiig, and many others. 

What makes the documentary particularly compelling is the access. Viewers aren't merely treated to a greatest-hits compilation of famous sketches. Neville's cameras follow the modern-day machinery of SNL, allowing audiences to witness writers' meetings, host interactions, and the weekly chaos that culminates in a live broadcast. These moments reveal why Michaels has survived and thrived in an industry notorious for burning people out. He is shown less as a showman and more as a patient curator of talent, someone who understands both comedy and human nature. 

The documentary's greatest strength is also its most frustrating aspect. Like numerous former cast members describe, Michaels remains difficult to truly know. Even after 100 minutes, viewers may find themselves understanding what he does far more than who he is. The film explores his professional triumphs, his instincts for spotting talent, and his influence on generations of comedians, but it stops short of becoming deeply personal. Whether this is a flaw of the documentary or simply the nature of its subject is open to interpretation. 

Still, the film succeeds as an affectionate portrait of a man whose fingerprints are everywhere in modern comedy. Nearly every major comedic voice of the last fifty years seems to have a story about seeking Michaels' approval, fearing his criticism, or celebrating one of his rare laughs. The cumulative effect is remarkable. By the end, it becomes clear that Saturday Night Live may be a cultural institution, but Lorne Michaels is the force that has held it together through political upheavals, changing audiences, and countless entertainment trends. 

For longtime fans of SNL, Lorne is a treasure trove of nostalgia, packed with archival footage and stories that connect multiple generations of comedy. For casual viewers, it serves as a fascinating business and leadership study disguised as an entertainment documentary. The film illustrates that Michaels' genius may not be in telling jokes but in recognizing who can tell them better than anyone else...

MY RATING: 10 OUT OF 10

BING CROSBY: THE HOLLYWOOD YEARS - PART 14

RECENTLY VIEWED: WHO IS MARTIN MULL

There has been a host of documentaries on comedians this past year, and Netflix did a great job with this latest one. There are comedians who become household names, and then there are comedians who quietly influence generations of performers while never quite receiving the recognition they deserve. Netflix's Who Is Martin Mull? falls squarely into the second category, functioning as both a biography and a long-overdue appreciation of one of entertainment's most fascinating creative minds. The documentary examines the life and career of Martin Mull through interviews, archival footage, and conversations with friends and collaborators who witnessed his remarkable journey. 

For many viewers, Martin Mull may be remembered as Leon from Roseanne, Colonel Mustard from Clue, Gene Parmesan from Arrested Development, or Principal Willard Kraft from Sabrina the Teenage Witch. What this documentary reveals, however, is that acting was only one chapter in a career that also included music, comedy, writing, and painting. Mull himself considered painting his greatest artistic passion, a theme that becomes the emotional center of the film. 

One of the documentary's greatest strengths is that it allows Mull to tell his own story. Built around interviews originally conducted by the late Bob Saget beginning in 2018, the film captures Mull's trademark wit, intelligence, and self-deprecating humor. Saget's admiration for his subject is evident throughout, and there is something unexpectedly moving about watching two beloved entertainers who are no longer with us engaging in these conversations. 

The documentary does an excellent job highlighting Mull's influence on modern comedy. Through commentary from performers and colleagues including Steve Martin, David Alan Grier, Patton Oswalt, and others, viewers gain an appreciation for how innovative Mull's work truly was. Long before alternative comedy became mainstream, Mull was blending music, satire, absurdism, and social commentary into a style that felt unlike anything else on television. 

Yet the most surprising aspect of Who Is Martin Mull? isn't the comedy. It's the humanity. The film gradually shifts from a career retrospective into a meditation on creativity, aging, and legacy. Mull emerges not as a celebrity chasing fame but as an artist constantly reinventing himself. Whether he was performing in folk clubs, starring in sitcoms, or creating paintings in his studio, he seemed driven more by curiosity than ambition. 

The documentary is not perfect. At times it tries to cover so many facets of Mull's life that certain periods feel rushed. Viewers unfamiliar with some of his earlier work may wish the film spent more time exploring groundbreaking projects such as Fernwood 2 Night. Nevertheless, these are minor shortcomings in what is otherwise a deeply engaging portrait. 

What stayed with me long after the credits rolled was the realization that Martin Mull may have been one of America's most underrated entertainers. He was the rare artist who succeeded in multiple disciplines and seemed genuinely uninterested in taking himself too seriously. In an era obsessed with branding and celebrity, Mull's career feels refreshingly authentic...

MY RATING: 10 OUT OF 10

STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO: MARION DAVIES

This sad photo is from the funeral of Clark Gable on November 19, 1960. Marion Davies is in the photo with her last husband, Horace G Brown, at the funeral of Clark Gable, just ten months before her own death. She had always nursed a drinking problem but in her final years she became a tragic alcoholic and a bitter woman...

RIP: EVA MARIE SAINT

Oscar-winning actress Eva Marie Saint, who starred in such memorable classic films as "On the Waterfront" and "North by Northwest," died Tuesday at her home in Los Angeles. She was 102.

The delicate, fine-boned actress, one of the first breakout talents from early television, won her Academy Award as best supporting actress for "On the Waterfront" in 1955, making her the oldest living Oscar winner. She played Edie Doyle in the Marlon Brando starring film, with the New York Times writing in its review, "Amid scenes of carnage, she gives tenderness and sensitivity to genuine romance."

One of her most memorable roles was as the cool but seductive blonde spy in Alfred Hitchcock's 1959 spy thriller "North by Northwest." "Not only does she provide the requisite icy sex appeal as Eve Kendall, a shadowy secret agent, but she also proves to be much more than a standard damsel in distress," Variety wrote in an appreciation on her 97th birthday.

"Saint's character is fully capable of pulling the wool over the eyes of sinister villains and usually remains two or three steps ahead of Grant's hapless Madison Avenue executive Roger Thornhill," the appreciation continues.

Saint made her TV debut on "Camp Hoop La," then became a regular on "One Man's Family." She broadened her dramatic range in such anthology series as "Philco Playhouse," "Robert Montgomery Presents" and "Studio One." Highlights during the period included Paddy Chayevsky's "Middle of the Night" (1954) and a musical adaptation of Thornton Wilder's "Our Town" (1955) co-starring Paul Newman and Frank Sinatra (both shows brought her Emmy nominations); Sidney Howard's "Yellow Jack"; and the drama "Claudia."

In 1956 she took on the glamorous female lead in "That Certain Feeling" opposite Bob Hope, followed by the 1957 film version of "A Hatful of Rain" and "Raintree County."

After "North by Northwest," she appeared in "Exodus" and "All Fall Down." The latter, directed by John Frankenheimer and co-starring Warren Beatty, saw her give one of her best dramatic performances.

She was the numinous but scorned wife in 1965's Elizabeth Taylor-Richard Burton adultery tale "The Sandpiper" and then appeared in a better vehicle, Norman Jewison's comedy "The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming," in 1966. Her performance in "Loving," co-starring with George Segal, was highly regarded and rated with her best work. Other roles include "36 Hours" and "Grand Prix." Except for another Hope comedy, "Cancel My Reservation," she spent most of the next two decades on TV and onstage.

On Broadway she acted in "The Lincoln Mask" in 1972 and then, opposite Henry Fonda, in "The First Monday in October" in 1979. In 1983 she appeared in a Chicago production of "Duet for One." Her television credits include "School for Bachelors," "A Carol for Another Christmas," "'The First Woman President," "Mrs. Epenshade," "Taxi" and miniseries "How the West Was Won." The latter two roles also brought Emmy nominations.

Saint received good critical notices for "A Christmas to Remember" with Jason Robards, "When Hell Was in Session," "The Curse of King Tut's Tomb," "The Best Little Girl in the World," "Malibu," "My Antonia" and "Jane Doe," among other roles.

The actress had a recurring role on the ABC series "Moonlighting," starring Cybill Shepherd and Bruce Willis, as Shepherd's mother.

In 1986 she returned to the big screen with a role in the Tom Hanks-Jackie Gleason vehicle "Nothing in Common." Saint appeared in many TV movies throughout the 1990s, including roles in "I'll Be Home for Christmas," "Kiss of a Killer," "After Jimmy" and "Open House," along with a cameo as Roz's mother in "Frasier." After four previous Emmy nominations, Saint finally took the statuette with a supporting actress Emmy win in 1990 for her role in the NBC miniseries "People Like Us."

Saint returned to film again in the 2000s, appearing in pics such as "I Dreamed of Africa" (2000), "Because of Winn-Dixie" and "Don't Come Knocking" (2005) and 2006's "Superman Returns," in which she played Martha Kent. In 2014 she made her final big screen appearance, in the Akiva Goldsman written and directed "Winter's Tale."

Her husband, TV director Jeffrey Hayden, died in 2016. Survivors include her two children, Darrell and Laurette, four grandchildren, Eli, Tyler, Molly, and Stella and two great grandchildren, Arlo and Finley...

RADIO'S GOLDEN AGE: THE RAILROAD HOUR - OCTOBER 4, 1948

Let's go back to radio's golden age for the great show The Railroad Hour. Starring Gordon MacRae, each episode was a full musical adaptation. This episode from October 4, 1948 featured Good News. The guests for the week included Dinah Shore and Jane Powell...

THE MYSTERIOUS ANDY KAUFMAN

Andy Kaufman didn’t want to make you laugh—he wanted to make you uncomfortable. Onstage, he wasn’t a comedian in the traditional sense. He called himself a “song and dance man,” but what he really was… was a disruptor.

On Taxi, he played Latka Gravas, the sweet, mumbling mechanic with a childlike innocence. Viewers adored him. But Kaufman resented being boxed into a sitcom character. Offscreen, he waged war on expectations. He’d walk onto a comedy stage, read The Great Gatsby out loud for half an hour, and refuse to stop. The audience thought it was a prank. It wasn’t—he was serious.

Kaufman invented personas like Tony Clifton, a chain-smoking, foul-mouthed lounge singer who heckled audiences so brutally people stormed out. The brilliance? Kaufman never admitted Clifton was him. Even his closest friends sometimes weren’t sure. He blurred the line between performance and life until there was no line at all.

His infamous wrestling act—challenging women in the ring, declaring himself the “Inter-Gender Wrestling Champion of the World”—was equal parts comedy, cruelty, and genius. Crowds booed, enraged. Kaufman thrived on that outrage. He didn’t care if people loved him. He wanted them to feel something real in the middle of a fake show.

But behind the chaos was a man with quiet contradictions. Friends described him as gentle, almost shy, someone who meditated daily, adored his family, and sometimes longed for the same acceptance he claimed to reject. He died young—just 35, from cancer—but even then, many fans refused to believe it. They thought it was one last bit, a final performance. Decades later, conspiracy theories still circulate that Andy Kaufman faked his death.

Maybe that’s the point. Andy Kaufman didn’t just change comedy—he changed the very idea of what comedy could be.

Because for him, the greatest punchline was leaving us unsure whether the joke was ever really a joke...