Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 238: The to-do list

Hope that coffee is strong, pally. Looks like a lot of work.

Let's just do this. I'll warn you in advance: this article is more for me than it is for you. This is something I've needed to do for a while now. Might as well bite the bullet.

Last week, I mentioned the vast amount of Ed Wood-related material I still have/want to cover in this series. But exactly how much are we talking about here? Well, the only way to know for sure is simply to list as much of it as I can. Maybe, once it's all laid out in front of me, it won't seem so intimidating. Or maybe it'll seem way more intimidating. Either way, we must proceed. I think a good way to start is to divide the work into various categories.

REPOST: A day spent (vicariously) with Tom Lehrer

Mathematician turned singer-songwriter turned mathematician Tom Lehrer.

NOTE: Today, we received the sad news that singer, songwriter, and mathematician Tom Lehrer had died at the age of 97. In light of that, I would like to repost an article about Tom that I wrote back in 2012.

Tom Lehrer would scoff at the idea of being anyone's hero. This is part of the reason why he's one of mine.

A native New Yorker born way back in 1928 (one shudders to do the grim calculations here), Lehrer was a child prodigy who graduated magna cum laude from Harvard at the age of 19. Since that time, he has spent most of his career either teaching or lecturing about mathematics at some of America's finest academic institutions, including MIT and the University of California at Santa Cruz. He formally retired in 2001, but he's still listed at the Rate My Professors website with a student review as recent as 2005.

Latter-day Lehrer

What sets Tom Lehrer apart from other mathematicians, apart from his claim of inventing the Jell-O shot, is that he devoted much of his time in the 1950s and 1960s to writing and performing some of the darkest, funniest songs I've ever heard -- deceptively joyous musical theater-type ditties with droll, sardonic lyrics about such topics as sex ("I Got It From Agnes"), drugs ("The Old Dope Peddler"), violence ("The Masochism Tango"), religion ("The Vatican Rag"), death ("I Hold Your Hand in Mine") and war ("So Long, Mom") with a candor that set him far apart from both the singers and the comedians of that era. Today, comedians can joke openly about pornography, incest, cannibalism, bestiality, and necrophilia on prime time network television, but this wasn't true 60 years ago when Tom's records couldn't even be played on the radio during respectable hours.

As with much of the music that now clutters up my brain, the bizarre and sometimes brutal song stylings of Tom Lehrer first entered my life through The Dr. Demento Show. This was back in the 1990s, before the internet was any damned good, and it was difficult to come by information about Tom's life or career back then. I couldn't even find a picture of the guy! I knew instinctively, though, that he wore glasses. Somehow, that was obvious to me. His myopia was audible. 

Despite the apparent rudeness of his lyrics, Mr. Lehrer conducted himself with the utmost decorum onstage, using impeccable Ivy League diction, eclectic and impressive vocabulary, and carefully-curated grammar. On his records, he comes across as man far too smart to take life the least bit seriously. Lerher's musical career occurred during the Cold War when it seemed ever-more-likely that mankind would annihilate itself with increasingly-deadly weapons. This looming apocalypse is the topic of several Lehrer songs, and he treats it the way he treats all other subjects: with an air of detached amusement at the absurdity of it all.

Tom Lehrer's 1953 debut

Today, almost two decades after I first heard "Poisoning Pigeons in the Park," (the song that made me a fan) I spent some quality time listening to virtually every Tom Lehrer recording available to the public. That's not a great investment of time, honestly. There are roughly three hours of Lehrer audio in total, nearly all of it consisting of Tom singing solo and accompanying himself on piano. 

His musical output boils down to two brief studio albums (Songs by Tom Lehrer and More of Tom Lehrer), three live albums (Revisited [a.k.a. Tom Lehrer in Concert], An Evening Wasted With Tom Lehrer, and That Was the Week That Was), plus a handful of miscellaneous recordings. He recorded a handful of his most famous songs with a full orchestra, for instance, plus he did a few well-remembered educational songs (like "Silent E") for a PBS children's program called The Electric Company. There are a few good CD compilations out there of Lehrer's work, but buyers should know in advance that the same exact songs from the two studio albums are heard on his first two live LPs as well. And I mean, they're note-for-note the same. If you buy the boxed set with his "complete" recordings, be prepared to sit through the same songs two or even three times.

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 237: The not-so-endless reaches of time

No matter who you are, time is coming to get you.

Ed Wood died at 54. My colleague Greg Javer, who researched the life and work of Ed Wood, died at 56. My own mother died at 46, her father at 54. I turn 50 in a couple of months. I am acutely aware that my time is rapidly running out. You know the scene in The Wizard of Oz (1939) in which Margaret Hamilton shows Judy Garland a giant hourglass full of red sand?

"Do you see that?" she yells, turning the hourglass upside down. "That's how much longer you've got to be alive, and it isn't long, my pretty! It isn't long!"

Cut to Judy Garland, sobbing in mute horror. That's how I feel right now.

I'm currently working a full-time cubicle job as a clerk at a mortgage company. Most days, I come home from the office feeling like garbage and not wanting to do much of anything. In what spare time I have, mostly nights and weekends, I do a biweekly podcast and maintain this blog. If you're reading this article, you probably think that I only write about Ed Wood. In fact, you may think this entire blog is called "Ed Wood Wednesdays." It isn't, but I've stopped correcting people on that point. 

SIDEBAR: The name of this blog is Dead 2 Rights. "Ed Wood Wednesdays" is a series of articles on that blog, sort of like how Saturday Night Live (1975- ) is a series on NBC. Most weeks, the Ed Wood stuff on D2R isn't even what gets the most clicks. My articles about Fat Albert, What's My Line, and Patience & Prudence consistently outperform Ed. In fact, of the ten most-viewed articles in the entire history of this blog, only two are about Ed Wood. And one of those is the index page.

Podcast Tuesday: "Frankie Goes to Johnnywood"

Michelle Pfeiffer and Al Pacino in Garry Marshall's Frankie & Johnny.

Director Garry Marshall and playwright Terrence McNally both faced professional challenges in 1991. Garry's challenge was following up the biggest movie of his career, Pretty Woman (1990). Terrence's challenge was taking his humble, two-character play Frankie and Johnny in the Claire de Lune (1987) and expanding it into a major motion picture featuring two enormous stars, Michelle Pfeiffer and Al Pacino.

As it happens, Marshall and McNally were working on the same project: the $29 million Paramount production Frankie & Johnny (1991). Perhaps wary of trying to top Pretty Woman, Marshall opted to tell the humble story of a chef named Johnny (Pacino) and a waitress named Frankie (Pfeiffer) who meet at the New York diner where they both work and embark upon a romantic relationship. Johnny sees Frankie as his soulmate and wants to pursue a serious relationship. Frankie's been hurt before and wants to keep things casual. Who prevails? Have you seen a movie before?

This week on These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast, we're reviewing Frankie & Johnny. We talk about the film, the play, New York diners, "Love Shack," and many other topics. We'd be very pleased and happy if you'd join us.

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 236: Plan 9: The Cemetery Screening (2025)

What's the weirdest place you've ever seen a movie?

Sometimes, the place where you see a movie can make all the difference. 

A very special screening.

I hope I will never forget seeing Citizen Kane (1941) at the magnificent Fox Theatre in Detroit or The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) at the crumbling Capitol Theatre in Flint. Then there's Chicago's historic Music Box, where I saw The Wizard of Oz (1939), Brand on the Brain (2006), and Inland Empire (2006). Magnificent experiences all. During Inland Empire, the theater was so cold I kept my winter coat on all three hours!

But I can also remember seeing Do the Right Thing (1989) at the long-gone Genesee Valley Cinema in Flint. This was a perfectly ordinary multiplex, but I happened to be there on a night when the air conditioning was on the fritz and the theater was sweltering, allowing us in the audience to experience some of what the characters onscreen were going through. My mother took me to see that film, and we had a long discussion afterwards about the characters and the choices they made.

Occasionally, the venue where you see a movie isn't even a theater at all. My first, transformative viewing of Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975), for instance, took place on a long bus trip to Indiana when I was a teenager. And I vividly remember watching the Suspiria (2018) reboot on an Amtrak train and being absolutely enraptured by it. Somehow, in both of those examples, being in motion made the viewing experience more intense. 

Ed Wood fans in the Los Angeles area have an opportunity later this month to view the director's most famous film in a highly memorable and most appropriate setting. On Saturday, July 26, 2025 at 6:30pm, the San Fernando Valley Historical Society (SFVHS) is hosting a screening of Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957) at the Pioneer Memorial Cemetery in Sylmar, CA. This, in case you didn't know, is the very cemetery where Eddie actually shot some scenes for the film! Director Mark Carducci visited this cemetery for his documentary Flying Saucers Over Hollywood (1992), as did film critic Harry Medved for an episode of his PBS series Locationland (2025). The SFVHS is holding this screening to honor the 100th anniversary of Ed Wood's birth.

Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 235: "The Mads Are Back: Bride of the Monster" (2022)

Some lovely artwork by Carmen Cerra for Bride of the Monster.

Much like Dracula, Mystery Science Theater 3000 will never die.

Sure, the long-running comedy series seems to be in limbo for now, with no new "official" episodes produced since December 2022. But the comedians and writers who worked on MST3K have launched similar series of their own and are still wisecracking their way through a wide variety of movies and shorts. In 2020, for example, MST3K veterans Trace Beaulieu and Frank Conniff launched a pay-per-view web series called The Mads Are Back. It started as a way for Trace and Frank to continue their touring act during the global pandemic, but they've kept the web series going to this very day, amassing four seasons and half a dozen specials so far.

You'd probably expect the films of Edward D. Wood, Jr. to be a part of any series like this, and, true to form, Beaulieu and Conniff have riffed both Glen or Glenda (1953) and Night of the Ghouls (1959) for The Mads Are Back. I was especially interested in screening those episodes because neither film had ever been covered on MST3K proper. On the other hand, I was aware of the fact that Beaulieu and Conniff had also riffed Ed Wood's Bride of the Monster (1955) in 2022. That movie had already been used on MST3K—way back in January 1993, during the show's fourth season on Comedy Central—so I was not as keen to see Bride of the Monster riffed on The Mads Are Back. I mean, what else is there to say about this film?