* * * *
A cantankerous New
York City doctor unwittingly becomes the first ever reality TV star.
Starring Paul
Muni, David Wayne, Betsy Palmer, Luther Adler, Claudia McNeil, Joby Baker
Written by Gerald
Green
Produced by Fred
Kohlmar
Duration 100
minutes
In 1998, a new
sitcom aired on BBC 2 called The Royle Family. Written by two of its stars, it centred around the everyday lives of a
'normal' working class family in the North of England.
This sitcom was a little different. Not only did the action mostly take place in the Royles' house, we hardly ever left the living room, where the family would chat while lounging around watching television.
Critics rounded on the concept. Who on Earth is going to sit watching their telly when all it's showing is people sat watching their own telly? Nevertheless, The Royle Family was a big hit. Being well-written, funny and having a talented cast certainly helped.
Fast-forward to 2013. Channel 4 introduces a new reality show named Gogglebox (an antiquated British term for the television). In this show, which is still going strong today, 'normal' people sit around watching TV and making comments while we watch them from the television's POV. Much like The Royle Family, the viewer feels like a fly on the wall; or, more accurately, a fly that's landed on the TV screen and sits there staring out at the viewers.
But there are three key differences between The Royle Family and Gogglebox. The first is that we cut between clips of the shows (or movies or documentaries or news broadcasts) they've been watching and the goggleboxers' quippy, allegedly spontaneous reactions. Secondly, we visit multiple households, as if we ourselves are channel surfing. (Which is a good thing to start doing whenever Gogglebox comes on, but I digress.)
It's the third difference that's the most crucial. Gogglebox is not well-written or funny and the people on it are not gifted comedic actors. They're obnoxious, witless and charmless, offering only banal and trite observations, delivering these non-insights in ways that seem designed to be as annoying as possible.
Gogglebox is a clear low point in popular culture. Its existence suggests a reverse-evolution theory for the human race. Obviously, reality TV is always garbage. But Googlebox is garbage that's been left out in the sun for several weeks.
But what kicked off the journey that led us to this nadir of nadirs? I don't mean what was the first reality show; that was probably MTV's The Real World in 1992. I mean, who was the first to speculate that perhaps there could even be a beast as hideous as reality TV?
Previously, I'd believed that it was Albert Brooks, with his brilliant 1979 satire REAL LIFE. But now I'm thinking that maybe the first artistic work to propose the reality concept was actually 1959's THE LAST ANGRY MAN.
In his final screen performance, former SCARFACE Paul Muni plays grouchy but dedicated neighbourhood GP Dr Sam Abelman. A pair of local hoodlums trust him enough to drop their injured ladyfriend on the doorstep of his Brooklyn brownstone in the early hours one morning. The neighbours get out of bed to watch the doc be surly ("You still owe me for your father's hernia operation!") while at the same time acting as the beating heart of the community. He clearly cares for all who cross his threshold – no matter the hour, affliction or the patient's capacity to pay.
The next day, we meet a television producer with the painful-sounding name of Woody Thrasher (David Wayne, THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN). Woody is desperate to thrash out a fresh angle for the TV show he's been pitching to his higher ups, and is intrigued when he reads an article doc Abelman's reporter nephew has published about last night's doorstep drama.
He tracks the good doctor down and proposes that he be the subject of a new programme. "Live television, from your house!" Thrasher gushes. "We'd visit with you – your family, your patients."
In the best hero's journey refusal-of-the-call tradition, Abelman won't play ball. But luckily, his enterprising nephew can better smell the opportunity and is determined to make a TV show with his 'Uncle Doc' happen.
Back in the TV station's offices, we get a flavour of how Thrasher wants his show – named Americans, USA – to play out. "Real people doing real things," he tells his boss. "Useful, dramatic lives! People whose every waking minute is drama!"
Ol' Thrash is a career man, but he seems honest enough. He's drawn to Abelman's passion, the man's integrity and dedication. He genuinely thinks that this physician will make great TV. But his paymasters, the studio's sponsor Gattling Pharmaceutical, instead see a chance to peddle their drugs using the eccentric but trusted medicine man as a vessel. Thrasher feels uneasy, but is pragmatic and moves forward with the plan.
So into Doc Abelman's home come the director and his crew, along with their '50s-era cameras and audio equipment. Thrasher has to explain to the family and sick people that they aren't playing parts or expected to act, but that they should just be who they are and do what they usually do. This is definitely an alien concept for everyone involved – including the movie's 1950s audience.
As a result, and through no fault of its own, THE LAST ANGRY MAN is pretty slow and laboured in its set-up. It reminded me of when you read a classic novel like Dracula or The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and have to patiently wade though pages of people speculating about exactly what this strange new creature could possibly be.
When they get to the actual filming, it doesn't look much different to a standard TV programme. There's blocking, sound checks, multiple cameras, retakes ... it's really more like a news broadcast. There's little attempt to lead the subject, and a presenter fronts the action, interviewing Abelman and then talking straight to camera. They don't just start rolling and let the events unfurl. But at the same time, there isn't any of the selective editing or participant manipulation that we've come to expect from the modern reality genre.
Anyway, Americans, USA has barely been on air five minutes before the good doctor is going off script and badmouthing the pharmaceutical companies he's supposed to be praising, calling them peddlers of unnecessary medicines who are only concerned with lining their own pockets. Which doesn't go down well. Gattling Pharmaceutical wanted someone on TV who's 'real'; Dr Abelman is just too damn real!
And when Thrasher's conscience catches up with him and he warns the doc to change his tune or the network pulls the plug, which would deny Abelman the spoils coming his way (the network promised him a new house as payment), the principled GP tells the TV man to stuff his programme, and the same to all the 'galoots' who are behind it.
The movie turns out not to be a satire, which of course I never expected – how can you satirise reality TV before it's even been established? In the end, THE LAST ANGRY MAN is less about reality vs fiction and the mechanics of television than it is a two-hander between Muni and Wayne, playing a pair of very different men who learn a lot from each other and both grow as a consequence. I liked it.
Which is just as well, because if I'd've come away having drawn a direct line between it and Gogglebox, we'd be talking about Last Movie Reviews' first zero-star verdict. Maybe minus stars.
Four stars out of five.
Valid use of the
word ‘last’? Our principled doc does seem to represent a
dying breed, in the face of the unethical standards of TV and his fame-hungry
nephew. So, he's the last something.
What would a movie called THE FIRST ANGRY MAN be about? In terms of the most angry
man, also in a movie that's also about television, you'd have to go for Peter
Finch as derenged broadcaster Howard Beale in NETWORK (1976).
Previously: LAST NIGHT
Next time: THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND
Check out my
books: Jonathanlastauthor.com
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