volume 4 Number September 23, 1971

Special pro wrestling

issueUV.

Page 1 J4th Street Megailne

BAUMBASTIC,

re: Peter Baum's "Rock in the summer of 1W1"

There are a few points in Mr. Baum's article/ review( ?) with which I take issue, for example, his poor analysis of Tarkus. "Overambitious" and "inef- fective" are not representative terms for the short-comings in the album. Better adjectives would be "overproduced" and "slick." Essentially, the album's songs are structured as various instrumental introductions and bridges which contain a high degree of rhythmic complexity and velocity, between which are vocal sections that are relatively less intricate and slower in tempo. If one listens to the instrumental sections carefully, he can discern that the contrasting textures of the various segments are created by changes in the instrumentation and rhythmic patterns. Unfortunately, these instrumental sections do not have much melodic sophistication; for this reason, they tend to sound drawn out and repetitious after a while. During may of the few improvisations, Emerson tries to play with such blinding speed that the patterns he produces are very elemen- tary jan "licks".

If anything, side two is more effective, simply because it is not as spectacular as side one. Take "Bitches Crystal" for instance. It is written in 6/ 8 time (double waltz) with an ostinato feeling in the bass. Emerson's use of an upright piano and Lake's sustained, almost shouted vocal lend a Gospel-like quality to the song which, added to its rhythmic base, really swings. The uses of instrumental counterpoint alone and against the vocals on much of the second side are perhaps the finer musical (melodically speaking) moments on the album. "Are You Ready Eddy?" is not so much "Emerson's 'Blues Power' cut" as a parody directed toward and about the engineer on the album, Eddy "Are You Ready" Offord.

Placing Soft Machine five years ahead of its time might be true when comparing it to rock music if there is such an entity, but in the jazz context this would not be the case. I fail to hear any "rock" elements in the album, except if one wishes to label a few small segments of cacophonous musical bullshit in the album by that name. Soft Machine's Fourth, which fits roughly in the genre of Miles Davis-Weather Report-type jazz, is perhaps a year or two behind anything these latter musicians have created. Although it may not be startlingly in- novative, it is good music, and I find it refreshing to hear previously rock- oriented musicians produce an album of this calibre and direction.

I think Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, and Sun Ra would resent being classed as "progressive" jazzmen, particularly since most people think of progressive as the music of the Beatniks in the late 1950's (i.e. Dave Brubeck, Lee Morgan, Stan Getz, etc.). In addition, they are from three different schools of playing: modal, percussive, and chromatic respectively. Comparing Soft Machine improvisations with Zappa's work is somewhat inconsistent, as Zappa wrote almost every note his band played during the Uade Meat days. I hope jazz has evolved past John Coltrane, since he has been dead for a few years, but since he was not particularly fond of horizontal modal playing, the comparison used in the review is most unkind. How ironic that the similar instrumentations of Ornette Coleman's Free Jazz in the dim past and Miles Davis' more recent Bit- ches Brew is such an advancement now that a "well known" group such as Soft Machine has decided to augment it. I would also like to add that Soft Machine's

incorporation of counterpoint seems more "accidental" than deliberate.

Chase can best be summed up in the words of a friend of mine:' 'Here we have yet one more diluted version of Blood, Sweat and Tears." I find Chase a much less satisfying group than either Chicago, or Blood, Sweat and Tears, both of which I consider rock with a thin jazz trimming. "Virtuoso trumpeter" Bill Chase, who sounds like a hack dropout of the Lew Showoff school of jazz trumpet, not only relies on upper-octave beginner's blues riffs, but plays them painfully out of tune as well. The few melodic incidences of our voice trumpet counterpoint appear like sudden lulls in the middle of a raging hurricane. On the whole Chase has all the musical intensity of combining Grand Funk Railroad with Black Sabbath and the Boston Pops. A jazz album, even remotely? Louis Armstrong would roll in his grave!

Bob Lackmeyer

CRIMINALLY INSANE

Dear Bozos; Inasmuch as I am no longer directly

affiliated with your tunafish sandwich of a publication, having matriculated into real life, it seems as though as I have no other recourse except to write meretricious letters like this one.

Having read "Up Against the W»'l of Science with Firesign Theatre," several pernicious errors have come to my at- tention. First, two other unstable, maladjusted S. Clay Wilson-addicted, hog riding fools were of invaluable assistance in helping me to obsfucate this otherwise pedantic record review. The criminally insane in this case were: James 'sewage brain' Miller and Ken 'more-awesome-than-seven teen-goats' Schon waiter.

In addition, since your proof staff is obviously as unfamiliar with great art as it is with toilet paper, the title of the Herman Melville story that was quoted was "The Tartarus of Maids," not "The Maids of Tartus."

Also your statement in the house ad that you will not concern yourself with politics is about as mature a platform as the metaphysics of Ernie Bushmiller.

Keep up the good work. Sincerely yours,

William "the existential bore" Vltka

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Volume 4 Number I September J3, 1*71

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STAFF: Pats* Baum, Patar Modi. Judy Brutwll. Coteen Dowane.ty. Sherry Fine. Barbara Flanagan, Barry Franton, Mike Greenberg, Marion Kahn, Richard Kleinman, Patricia Loeb, Robert Piarpont. David Ptaltit. John Rilay, Marion Sandmaetr, John Shanholt. Rob Staoa. Julia Steele. Nancy Stain, Dean Surkin, Travis Tory, Helen Tortili, Valeria Wacfct.

34th Street meoeiine it published Thursday el Philadelphia. Pi. durine the fall and spring semesters, except during vacation periods. Article*, inquiries, letters to the editor, and advertising may be tent to Sergeant Hall. 34th and Chestnut Streets. Philadelphia. Pi. 19104. Phone: 21 VS<M-6Stl

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September J3. 1971 Page 3

The bullshit ballet

To grab and to hold By MIKE OMANSKY

"From the deepest, darkest part* of unexplored Africa, never before seen by the eyes of man...."

No, we're not looking in at a mystical eastern religious ceremony. In fact, it's quite the opposite. The place is an American sports arena, and a thrilling session of professional wrestling matches is about to get underway.

But before we turn to this ezhilirating experience, there are a few ground rules about the wrestlers and their trade that must be laid down.

To begin with, unlike you and me, the big wrestling stars don't come from any old place like Hoboken, New Jersey or Syracuse, New York. Rather, competitors fly in from exotic spots all over the world just to compete for you in the comfort of your own modest local arena.. For example, we've got 401 lb. giant Gorilla Monsoon, who but less than a decade ago was discovered by a band of passing gypsies while wading nude in a mountain stream in the jungles of Manchuria; Professor Toru Tanaka of Hiroshima, Japan, one of the world's foremost karate experts (not to mention a main-eventing pro grappler), visiting the U.S. to "pick up honorable Yankee dollars - rots of green (sneer-evil laugh)"; the wild Shiek of Araby, who, by the grace of Allah, produces balls of fire from thin air to hurl at unsuspecting opponents; and Bepo and Gee to Mongol, two brothers from the island of Croatia (wherever that is), standing 6'8" and 6*3",weighing in at 330 and 280 pounds respectively who, in spite of their inability to speak English or behave properly in a civilized society, achieved fame last year by winning the world tagteam championship before 22,000 irate fans who packed New York's Madison Square Garden.

Add Tony "Mr. America" Marino, the Beast from Sicily, the Canadian Wolfman, Beautiful Bobby, the Friendly Ox from Possoms Valley Bluff, Arkansas, Baron Mikel Scicluma from the isle of Malta, Moscow's masked tagteam, the Russians, and even still more, and you can obviously see that the wrestling promoters have worked overtime, literally scouring the world for the best available wrestling talent.

All of these many professional wrestlers fall into one of two general classes, regardless of grappling ability: they are either crowd-pleasing "heroes" (the classic good guys) who represent the epitome of virtue, or bruising "villains" (bad guys), for whom whipping and twenty years hard labor would be too good. Upon sight it's vir- tually impossible to confuse an individual wrestler's standing with the fans. If he wears bright colored trunks, smiles, signs autographs for a crowd of kiddies, and kisses babies, then he's pure and good. It also helps if he's Italian, Puerto Rican , or Black, especially if he one day hopes to become world champion (we'll get to that later). On the contrary, if the worthless bum rips up youngsters' programs, wears black tights, is accompanied by a repulsive loud-mouthed "manager" (an optional ac- cessory), and comes from a sinister place like Japan, Malta, or Detroit, the snarling, no-good son-of-a-bitch is a villain.

But the combatents aren't the only concern to an ambitious promoter planning a mat spectacular. Just as necessary as nature's wonders are nature's disasters....

If a man is totally incompetent in his work, has faulty hearing, takes residence at the home for the blind, and his mobility is restricted due to the fact that his seeing eye dog has gone astray or his rheumatism is acting up again, you'd naturally expect that his chances to gain any form of employment are nil. Right? Wrong! A man such as we've described posseses all of the prerequisites needed to become a pro wrestling referee. Yes, this Eighth Wonder of the World is entrusted with the mammoth task of officiating a major sports event, and, out of 15,000 people in the arena, is the only person unable to detect any infractions of the rules. Thus, a man who represents the lowest form of human existence is inappropriately en- trusted with a job demanding maximum efficiency and must assume a major responsibility that he is thoroughly unqualified to handle. It's quite common to see wrestling fans shrieking four-letter words as Crazy Luke Graham chokes a helpless opponent while the ref is distracted by Graham's manager, Lou Albano, from ringside; and the empty popcorn boxes fly at poor Grandpa as he just doesn't see the 2 x 4' wooden plank that Tarzan Tyler is using both hands to conceal behind his back, as any fool can plainly see.

Frustrating? Of course! It takes a rare greatness to master the art of refflng pro wrestling matches, and the worst is none too good.

In addition to the hidden objects, the show is often enhanced by actors' blood gushing out of a drugstore capsule. It is thus neither unusual or difficult for a mat- man to be rendered helpless due to a severe "cut" in- flicted by an adversary who was his Gin Rummy partner just ten minutes earlier in the dressing room.

The most essential ingredient to the entire operation is a man who can do no wrong; whose life is as minimally significant as those of Christ, Abe Lincoln, and Buffalo Bob Smith combined; whose fantastic aura is the pulse of the universe - literally a living, breathing superman. Is it God???? of course not !!!!! It's PEDRO MORALES!!!!

You've never heard of Pedro Morales? ? ? Pedro is only the World Wide Wrestling Federation (abbreviated W.W.W.F.) heavyweight champion, that's all! And even more important, he's Puerto Rican, which is terribly convenient to Eastern promoters who thrive on income from Spanish speaking patrons in selected arenas.

Yes, at 28 years of age, 245 pound giant-killer Pedro Morales is at the top of the heap - the undisputed wrestling champion of the entire world - in at least 13 states, that is. Although in passing pro wrestling boasts three "undisputed" world champions in the United States alone, that doesn't bother us because any school boy in Spanish Harlem knows that Pedro is the rightful claimant to the throne.

And how did Pedro came to be the supreme diety, strapping a $10,000 gold belt around his waist whenever he enters a ring? It's really quite simple. His predecessor,

Photos by KEN SCHONWALTEH

Bruno Sammartino of Abruzzi, Italy, a long established living legend himself (and, in spite of Pedro, regarded by many as the greatest pro wrestler o.' all time!), got tired of playing crusader for eight consecutive years and wanted a rest. So, in January 1971, Russian meanie Ivan Koloff conveniently dove off the top ropes to pin Bruno to the horror of his 22,000 Madison Square Garden deciples. However, three weeks later in the same arena, Pedro pinned Ivan in the name of Puerto Rico and everything else good to the ecstatic approval of another packed house. To polish it off, Bruno, who had witnessed the match from the wings, was the first to pop out and congratulate Pedro, and to even put the championship belt around Pedro's waist. Thus Pedro won new glory, Bruno wiped his brow and took off for a European vacation, the fans were consoled with their new idol, and poor Ivan got lost in the shuffle. Needless to say Pravda didn't bother to cover the story.

One of the most prominent pro grappling promoters in the United States today is Philadelphia's own Ray Fabiani. Mr. Fabiani, in spite of a recent stroke, is still going strong after 30 years in the business, and, in- cidentally, graduated from the College of Arts & Sciences at our beloved University of Pennsylvania. Mr. Fabiani's primary concern nowadays is to book semi-monthly Saturday night wrestling shows that consistently pack 10,000 fans in the Philadelphia Arena (at 45th and Market Streets) as well as to produce television taping sessions regularly for airing across the country.

"Most wrestlers are college educated, and are vry brilliant boys - all of them" the veteran promoter pc Jited out as he greeted me at his Philadelphia apartment. "Among them you'll find doctors, lawyers - you name it!" This is contrary to the popular misconception that pro wrestlers possess somewhat limited mental capacities. They are indeed quite well-rounded individuals, in spite of the "I'll kill da bum" demeanor typical of televised in- terviews used in promotion. For example, "Killer" Kowalski, who grunts and groans like a wounded animal as he mauls one victim after another, was extremely brilliant in college, and German bruiser Hans Schmidt was quite successful in his stay at U of P. This is the rule , not the exception, in spite of the false image that comes across over the boob-tube.

"A wrestler leads an active life," he continued. "He'll work out in the gym at least 3,4, or 5 hours daily, as well as working an average of five bouts a week. He'll then usually travel about 200 miles for his 'next' match, which puts them 'on the road' almost daily."

Of course, the time and dedication means good money for even the "preliminary" wrestlers < a term applied to those participants not too successful in their endeavors - losers, to be more blunt), and for a man like Bruno Sammartino, the sky is the limit - even well into the 7- figure bracket (that's a million!). Of course, the constant traveling and restaurant bills dig into expenses, but wrestlers are an economical bunch and four may take off together in a car from Philly to Washington, D.C., making the most of an already healthy salary. The amount a wrestler makes for one particular bout depends upon the arena - 22,000 rooters at Madison Square Garden shelling out 1105,000 means a bigger haul for everybody than 2,000 fans paying less than $9,000 at a high school gym in All en town.

Breaking into the business is far.from easy. "A man needs a great athletic background," Ray continued. "A man should play football and wrestle hard in college, and spend endless hours learning the holds." In addition, many pro wrestlers, such as Monsoon, Spyros Arion, Arnie Skoaland, Bob Roop, and scores of others were outstanding Olympic competitors.

When asked about the ignorance of wrestling displayed by skeptical newspaper sports writers aroung the coun- try, promoter Fabiani replied, "It doesn't bother me - the fans still turn out heavily. A good show gives people a good reason to come, and the lack of coverage by the dailies has no effect upon attendance."

Of course, people need to be made aware of the quality mat card being offered in order to be induced to spend the $3-5 to see Bulldog Brower smash a chair over Pedro Morales' head. In this area, Mr. Fabiani provides en- couragement with T.V. "buildups" - an unscheduled disturbance of the peace by two arch rivals who "just happen" to be opposing each other in a non-televised bout or. a card a few weeks later for paying customers. "I'll try anything and everything..." he states, and added, "It's the best way."

One of the highlights of the Philadelphia fall wrestling season will be the return to the arena of the immortal Bruno Sammartino. Ray realizes that this will not only be a sure sell-out, but will also mean the turning away of droves of latecomers. (Buy your tickets early when Bruno comes. Even if you don't follow pro wre&liuig, the ex- citement of a Bruno match is guaranteed to psyche you out completely). When asked if he thought Bruno would eventually win his belt back, Mr. Fabiani answered, "1 spoke to him about 3 or 4 months ago about this. I think he has a very good chance. He can do it." Of course, even Mr. Fabiani realizes that the chances of a Bruno-Morales bout materializing are indeed nil A basic rule of pro wrestling promotion is that you don't feature a good guy against a good guy, especially an Italian against a Puerto Rican. "But anything can happen," he continued. "It came as a big surprise to me when Pedro won the title. And tomorrow someone else could overthrow Pedro, only to be stopped by Bruno. You never know."

While Mr. Fabiani admits that to him pro wrestling means "big business," it's obvious that he loves It. The drive and enthusiasm are in his blood, and he doesn't let up in trying to sign the best available talent for his local customers.

I accepted his invitation to join him at ringside for last Saturday night's big Arena card, which boasted such well-known mat stars as Morales, Jim Valiant, Tarzan Tyler, Beautiful Bobby, Crazy Luke Graham, Monsoon, Stan "the Man" Stasiak, and a host of others.

Unfortunately, this was easier said than done. I was told to contact his co-worker, Mr. Phil Cacco, upon arrival at the arena. Photo Editor Ken Schonwaiter and I battled a mob to find that Mr. Cacco knew nothing of our coming

and had little interest in listening to explanations. He did, however, let us through the gate (probably just to get rid of us), and Ken and I sought refuge in a couple of ringside seats. It was better than an hour before the first per- formance, but it's common law in the lives of pro wrestling fans to arrive at an arena early to get psyched, so the place was already half-filled. By 8:30 it was packed.

The first event pitted the masked Black Demon, listed from "Parts Unknown," against Mike Pappas of Athens, Greece (sure thing, fellas). The crowd cheered vigorously at Mike's every move, but it was a typical prelim mismatch as the Demon, at 270 pounds outweighed his man by SO and subdued the Greek with a chop to the throat and pin. In spite of his droplocks and punishing toe holds, Mike was doomed to failure from the start.

Then came 295 pound Mike "The Moose" Monroe, a snarling bearded villain adorned in dark blue tights to battle smiling, popular Karl "The Great" Gotch of Ger- many, attired in bright yellow tights. Needless to say, Gotch was the hero, and dazzled both Monroe and the crowd with a thousand and one holds. The roof shook as Gotch whipped "Moose" from one turnbuckle to another. But, as fickle fate would have it. as Gotch had mike sof- tened up for a pin, the time limit expired at twenty minutes to make the bout a draw, Gotch didn't stop and chased the bully boy out, which earned him an ear- splitting standing ovation.

I should mention at this point that this boistrous crowd of pro wrestling fans makes up a unique class of society at large. The gullability rate is extremely high; mental capacities, well, of a dubious nature; and it's the type of people that, as adults, still fall for fairy tales. It's a motley crew, somewhere along the lines of people you'd find in a dumpy bus terminal, or a run-down diner out in the middle of no-where supported by passing truck drivers. But it's an enthusiastic group. The noise volume is simply un- believable, and the atmosphere generated during the matches is an exciting experience in itself. The people love and believe the world that comes alive in the wrestling ring, and are totally involved in the program.

By the time the third match came into the ring, I'd given up the idea of sitting down, since everyone at ringside was standing on their chairs. Music cane on: "The March of the Noble" (a classical piece by a Russian composer). In came the not so noble (as far as fans are concerned) Beautiful Bobby, whose theme song precedes every appearance. Bobby sported a glittering silver jacket, an eye-popping.green skirt (yet, a skirt!), and sunglasses, with his bleached blonde hair slicked back nice and pretty. Catcalls were equally provided for Bobby and his manager - get ready for this one - the Grand Wizard of Id, a loud-mouthed pipsqueak (and a fantastic showman) in an equally repulsive outfit - purple slacks, green jacket, multi-colored tie, and a red turban covering a toupee. The Beautiful one's opponent was popular Rene Goulet of Quebec City, who wasn't touched by bobby's beauty and decided to attack both him and his manager before the bell. Goulet ripped off Bobby's exterior adornments to reveal purple and white striped trunks with purple tights, Ugh. From there on they waltzed through a well-acted routine, featuring the old "hidden object" trick as described earlier, and the ref playing true to form, not detecting any wrongdoings. Finally Bobby decided choking was more fun than hammerlocks, and got disqualified for roughing it up.

The fourth bout was the main event, one fall to a finish, for the heavyweight championship of the world. First to enter was the challenger, 282 pound muscleman, Hand- some Jimmy Valiant of Hollywood (where else?), who was also accompanied by the Grand Wizard. Jim blew kisses to the fans who in turn blew their stacks; he flexed his muscles, and posed just like the guy with the girls hanging all over him in Joe Weider ads. Then the millenium in the morning - running into the ring was champ Pedro Morales, just itching to get his hands on Valiant. Handsome Jim taunted Pedro and strutted about, making naughty gestures and sending them out in the champ's direction. That Latin blood was boiling by now. Vou see, as in any main event on a wrestling card, this bout was a once-in-a-lif etime special. These two signed up for the main event despising each other, and couldn't wait to have it out in the special grudge match. Jim was once a hero, and was even Pedro's tagteam partner: but less than two months ago that evil Grand Wizard cast a spell over Jim to make him change his goody-two-shoes image. Pedro wanted to get Jim so bad, in fact, that he even gave up his share of the purse to Jim, who demanded it as compensation for having to wrestle Morales in Philadelphia. If you can't figure that one out, don't worry: but facts are facts, and everyone in the arena knew darn well that the match meant more than any amount of money ever could.to Pedro, who was willing to risk his title gratis to get his hands on bad boy Jim.

This was no easy task. At the bell. Valiant wouldn't come out and wrestle, and when Pedro pursued him, Jim jumped from the ring and started strutting around the

34th Street Magazine

Boor. Fans booed profusely. What a coward! Empty pop corn boxes and explding soda containers flew at smiling Jim, while Pedro looked to the crowd, almost with tears in his eyes, fists clenched. He slammed his hands to the mat dramatically. Jim popped in and out again, and repeated the process as he ran from Pedro. Finally he came in long enough to plant a foot in Pedro's mid-section and con- tinued from there. But Pedro has amazing powers of recovery, and started dishing it oi-t to Jim who decided to leave the ring again. This time, however, Pedro followed, and they started slugging it out in the first row and the aisle. This brought on a double-disqualification, making the mess an official draw. Before we left that night, it was announced that after much negotiating, Morales and Valiant had both agreed to have a rematch in the Arena on Saturday October 2nd, to be held inside a steel cage with no referee. At this announcement, the crowd roared in ecstasy, for the aggravation each person shared with Pedro would finally come to an end. Yes, Pedro will put that strutting peacock down for good, and that's definately worth another $5. Cheap at twice the price right?

A special attraction, billed as the "Battle of the 6' Giants." saw 290 pound Stan "The Man" Stasiak of Buzzard Creek, Oregon, take an unfair win over 401 pound favorite Gorilla Monsoon, who battled the former to a pulp. After establishing superiority in the ring, the Gorilla started battling his foe on the ring apron, just outside the ropes. The ref started counting to 10. At 9 Monsoon slugged Stasiak so hard that Stan fell over the ropes back into the ring: so at 10 the big Gorilla was still outside and thus was disqualified. Sigh. Is there no justice in the world''

The grand finale, 2 out of 3 falls, was for the world tagteam championship. Current titleholders. Crazy Luke Graham and Tarzan Tyler 'accompanied by a greaser- type manager, Lou Albano) were challenged by Indian Chief Jay Strongbow of Oklahoma (alias Joe Scarpa of Jersey) and Puerto Rican star Manuel Soto. The arena shook as the four matmen took turns in slamming each other all over the place. The Chief then did an Indian war dance, signifying approaching victory (an ancient tribal ritual no doubt), and clamped a "sleeper" hold on Tarzan which meant nighty-night for the blonde and a fall for the good guys. Four minutes later, however, Tyler hurled Soto half-way across the ring to have his throat fall across the top rope and followed up with a pin to even the match up at one fall per team. Neither team wanted to bother waiting for the third to get under way, and Just went right at it. Viewing the free-for-all, the ref scolded and shook his fist violently, the fans shrieked, and the participants beat the hell out of each other. The ref then took the easy way out, stopped the fracas, and ruled it a draw.

It was also announced that the next arena show would include two girls matches, a tagteam spectacular with Gotch and Goulet battling the Masked Russians, and other events to support the Morales-Valiant cage special.

"I'll be there, brother!" assured one obese man.

"That ref was a son of a bitch, tha's what he was - I can't wait to see Pedro get that damn Valiant!" screamed a lady (?).

"Buy your tickets well in advance!" warned the ring announcer as fans filed out.

While most knowledgeable sports buffs recognize the matches more as a form of entertainment as opposed to legitimate ath'etic competition, the announcer needn't have mentioned it. They'll all be back next time. For this is professional wrestling, and its magnetic appeal.

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September 23. 1971 P«oe.-5

Joyce, Cummings... Robson By STEVEN WINN

THOMAS ONETWO by Ernest M. Robson, Something Else Press, 80 paces, $3.95.

TRANSWHICHICS Exhibit at the Van Pelt Library, 34th and Walnut Streets, Free.

Now, if a man meets you on a Monday af-

ternoon in the Van Telt Library, claims he is picking up where James Joyce and E.E. Cummings left off, and gives you a book he wrote in 1926 about the com- modity distribution of a pickle, you might just ci'alk it down to experience. But if the man's mane is Ernest M. Robson, you have chanced upon a remarkable little work of prose.

Thomas Onetwo recounts the or- dinary adventures of a Twenties man who sets out from Missouri to become President of the United States, searches for the source of all the sorrows of the people in the United States, and finally dies at his own hand after a vain search for the most perfect lady in the world. The bairn, uie .cucemer of all this futility? A pickle, a Jar of Mrs. Baker's pickles actually, because, as the in- cessant refrain of the book explains, "he

By DEAN SURKIN

BS&T 4 (Columbia) BS&T is stagnating, after alienating

their original audience by too much teenybopperism, they claimed a return to a simpler thing for the fourth album. Here is BS&T with half the counterpoint, half the syncopation and half the energy- they sound tired.

Maybe it is time for the band to break up. I had followed with interest the triple nature of the band - bopper, progressive rock and symphonic - and greatly en- joyed certain works of the latter two styles. I consider "Something Comin' On" and "Symphony for the Devil" (from BS&T 3) excellent examples of what nine well trained musicians could do. I find the rhythms, chord voicings and blues solos of the former much more interesting than the (pre-Leon Russell Cocker version. "Symphony for the Devil" includes 20th century coun- terpoint - strange sounds for those used to occasional baroque counterpoint in rock.

Anyway, it is gone. The rhythm section is stuck with some of the least interesting parts they've ever had to play, the arrangements are less involved with the total sound and more with riffs (more Chase-like?) - the bright spots are few. I will point to the introduction to "Rock me for a Little While" (for its funk), the new trombonist, Dave Bargeron (his technique is more of a match for trumpeter Lew Soloffs than Jerry Flyman's was) and Soloffs growing maturity as a soloist. Con- sidering that the hand seems to have run out of ideas, I repeat my earlier opinion: they should break up. Colosseum Daughter of lime i Dunn ill i

Colosseum has always been an im- provisitory gro'ip with a predilection for the strangely phrased riff - just when they sound loose as hell, they hit one note together to prove they know where they are (that note is usually at some unex- pected fraction of the beat) So the title is well deserved.

Cris Farlowe has joined as vocalist.

would have had a few more pleasant moment, because of the delicious flavor in Mrs. Baker's pickles."

There is, in Robson's spoof, a joy and naivete (skillfully sharpened by Ken Friedman's drawings), and yet the pleasure doesn't end there. Robson seems to have created an elaborate and ironic web long before he created Thomas, and his hero is hardly a match for his troubles. There is a vague and hovering logic in Thomas' downfall, and his undisturbed innocence in the face of recurring visits to the insane asylum begins to harmonize with the ongoing chant of the pickle. As Thomas grows more battered and yet more dauntless, Mrs. Baker's ditty becomes a dirge, worse than the snags and traps which only hit at the despearation and hopelessness that we all ignore - like we ignore gravity

Robson models some startling metaphors, from which Thomas seems to be squeezed mercilessly, and yet he is unharmed:

Two Jews were the first people Thomas Onetwo met in New York City. He walked down Broadway with them and asked whether they knew the source of all the sorrows of the American people.

One Jew said, "I can't answer for all the people in the United States, but, for

me, the bitterest grief I know is that I was ever born a Jew."

The second Jew replied, "Why do you talk about the Jews in such a way? Don't you know the Jews are the greatest people in the world?"

To which the first Jew answered, "The Jews control everything in New York but themselves."

Whereupon, to Tomas's astonishment, the other Jew blurted out, "You dirty kike," and walked away.

This little book, unfortunately published by the kind of c >mpany that is ignored by bookstores, stands up well after 45 years, a claim that few people will be making about so much of today's "Movement Writing." Robson's address is Box 165, Parkerford, Pa., 19457, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind ordering a few copies for an interested Philadelphia distributor.

If you can't find Thomas Onetwo, another sample of Robson's mental acrobatics is. on display at the Van Pelt library. The subject of the exhibit is Transv. hichics, a book that he and a cast of thousands compiled over a period of eleven years and finally published last year (Dufour). Robson and others began to think that written language tells you very little about spoken language, and through a series of guesses, experiments,

tests and triais they arrived at a new order of symbolic language. Basically, enlarge characters and spaces, varied intensities (light and dark), stretched and squashed letters seem very ar- bitrary, but Robson and the exhibit assured me this was no random development.

Thousands of systems were tested on a variety of readers, and the results, while mysterious, are appealing and provocative. A number of curious things turn up in the exhibit, some of which seem to have strong implications in poetry, such as the fact that English has a wider distribution of accents on dif- ferent syllables than any other language.

The display traces the ac- complishments of other experimenters ■ including Lewis Carroll), and Robson himslef credits Cummings with a major accomplishment in this area in his poetry. Transwhichics, however, poses a radical and ultimate sign language, which, for now robs poetic speech of too much of its beautiful and seductive suggestiveness.

But, 45 years hence

Review Capsules but the group still suffers from a mediocre guitarist (he plays noise, not notes) and atrocious production. I am even afraid to comment on the studio added horn arrangements because the mixing is so muddy. Without the studio instruments the band plays very creatively (as long as the guitarist does not try to solo) and can often produce interesting textures in their arrangements - one of their favorites is to begin a verse with just bass, drums and voice, as in the opening track, "Threescore and Ten". Other in- struments are then added until the chorus when the tempo is helved.

One day, perhaps, the group will switch producers and release better indicators of their talent. Kar! Berger Company

I caught this group live and swore to find anything they might have recorded. They are a trio, Berger on vibes and piano with a drummer and string bassist - a female percussionist and vocalist sat in on the second set.

Their music is modem jazz in its highest form - every note was im- provised (you could even see the vocalist writing words on a pad of paper before singing them). The bassist hopped all over his fingerboard, showing the in- fluence of Mingus sans bow and sounding like ho one I have ever heard when he used one. The drummer was a polyrhyth- mist, ie, there was no feeling of meter and the predominate beat often changed unexpectantly to futher accent the melody. Berger was especially notable for his chromatic harmonic conception: be never once gave a feeling of keys or chords. At times, though, his phrasing could have been better.

As a trio, the band came across fantastically, with the bassist a follower and Berger and me drummer the leaders - I would have preferred the bassist to lead more, but the responsive im- provisation was beautiful anyway.

I recall one guy standing on stage staring over the musicians shoulders who they f i tally asked to move. Berger later apologized to him, saying "I fill the stage; I need the whole spaco." This may not be true, but the band's music cer- tainly did.

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ema Post garbage: Corman, Shear

By KENNETH SALIKOF

In its golden era, between the middle 1950's and the late 1960's, American International Pictures produced and distribued enough garbage product to feed every pig in the contiguous United States for at least ten years. These substandard films herded themselves into four youth-oriented groups: films based on short stories by Edgar Allan Poe, usually starring Vincert Price; beach party films featuring Frankle Avalon of the warbling voice and Annette Funicello of the Mickey Mouse ears; motorcycle epics introducing live members of a reactionary group called Hell's Angels (never before shown in captivity); and fil: is that tried (and mostly failed ) to cajh in on the success of other films: Those Fantastic Flying Fools, Bloody Mama.

The quality of these films were nonexistent, but it mattered little. AIP catered to the drive-in trade. So who watches films In a drive-in anyhow? What AIP was doing was producing films to hick by. And make sure your ankle doesn't get stuck in the steering wheel like it did when we saw The Pit and the Pendulum.

Today's AIP is something else. The classes of films previously listed have given way to ripped-off remakes of Wuthering Heights and A Tale of Two Cities and now the company sports a semi-respectable appearance. The same holds true for several directors who cut their teeth on American International films, most notably Barry Shear ana Roger Corman. When you see The Todd Killings or Von Richthofen and Brown, keep in mind the humble origins of their creators. It will give you a better frame of reference. VON RICHTHOFEN AND BROWN

In Von Richthofen and Brown, director Roger Corman - famous for his color-coordinated "Poe" films and "trip" sequences, infamous for his trashy and tasteless exploitation films - does a complete turnabout with a film

that cogently explores the life-styles of two airborne warriors of World War I and wonderfully portrays the privileged feeling of freedom that flying gives.

The two warriors are Baron Manfred

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In THE TODD KILLINGS, Robert Lyons plays Skipper Todd, a young lad with the nihilistic hobby of terminating the existence of his cloying girl friends.

von Richthofen and Roy Brown and the film details the true events leading up to the day Von Richthofen was shot down and killed by Brown over the battlefield that was France in April of 1918.

The film presents the two enemies as different sides of the same coin. Von Richthofen (John Phillip Law), the savage Red Baron of Germany, is por- trayed as a self-assured minor member of the landed gentry, who considers himself to be a knight of the air, ex- changing lance for Spandau machinegun and gallant white charger for blood red Fokker DR-1.

Quite the opposite is Canadian R.A.F. pilot Roy Brown (Don Stroud), a maverick officer and common man with no illusions about the kind of war he is fighting. As he puts it, "I'm a technician. I change things. Put a man and a plane in front of me and I change them into a, wreck and a corpse."

Von Richthofen and Brown is by no means an anti-war piece, althogh

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Brown's overly cynical comments could easily lead us to such a conclusion. What Corman has in mind is. something far more complex; he juxtaposes the careers of the two men to depict history and value systems in a state of flux, as the film encompasses no less than the death of Europe's old order and the violent birth of the new.

The really surprising and pleasing thing about the film is the simplicity of form and good taste that Corman brings to this ambitious project. In his capable hands the film is much more than an action-packed movie of aerial derring- do. Sometimes Gorman's direction ap- proaches true genius. In one scene a beautiful German girl examines one of Anton Fokker's experimental triplanes, while off-screen, Fokker's running commentary is filled with double en- tendres that can just as easily refer to the girl as to the airplane. This well fashioned scene is a subtle and hilarious send-up of Detroit's attempts to sell their cars through the sex appeal of the girl in the short skirt sitting in the front seat of their product. It's enough to let you forgive Corman for making the ex- crementious Bloody Mama.

THE TODD KILLINGS Skipper Todd is 23, unemployed,

hangs out with the high school set and thinks he's the one and only greatest thing in Darlington, a small American town perched on the fringe of the desert. Driving around town in his metalflake green dune buggy, supplying kids with dope, composing and playing songs on his guitar, he is the sole source of kinetic energy in a town that has embalming fluid in its veins.

Everyone loves Skipper - his mother who supports him by running a last stop old age home, the teeny-boppers who wet their pants every time they see him, the guys who worship him for the superstud he is. But Skipper has one fault. He is a murderer with several female bodies decomposing in the desert to prove it.

If you're expecting Barry Shear's The Todd Killings to be a suspenseful cops- and-killer film about how Skipper is

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brought to justice, forget it. The film is a sensationaUstic character study of a complex youth and a put-down of the pseudo-hip elements of the counter- culture.

Although Skipper and his friends may affect long hair, smoke dope and pepper their conversation with "now" cliches, their ennui, senseless hanging-out and petty bickering about dating prove they are just as shallow as the crewcut, beer- and-ohurrhkey fraternity set of the 1959's. A former high ichool teacher reveals Skipper for what he really is - the backwash of the revolution, a pitiful creature who embraces the middle class values he pretends to detest.

On one level The Todd Killings is an unconscious echo of the '50's. The film's opening disclaimer (the story is based on truth, only the names have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty), the melodramatic quality of Leonard Rosenman's annoying score and the toughness of the suspicious detectives take us back* to the early days of television.

On quite another level, the film's theme bears an uncanny resemblance to the one expressed in Barry Shear's last film, Wild in the Streets, in which a young rock star is elected president of the United States.

The implications of the film, the susceptability of youth, comes across with force in the scene where Skipper, once the dominator, now the dominated, is told by his slick lawyer exactly what he has to do to beat the murder rap. This scene is reminiscent of the puppet-like manipulation of Steven Shorter in Peter Watkin's Privilege, a film that like Wild in the Streets shows the persuasive power of popular people.

Skipper is played by Robert Lyons, the actor who scored so heavily as Elliott Gould's freaked-out, draft-dodging buddy in Getting Straight. Lyons turns in a good performance that is part Charles Manson, part I-eopold and Loeb, but is overshadowed by veteran actress Barbara Bel Geddes, who plays Skip- per's no-nonsense, protective mother with an ability to be tough and tender at the same time.

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September 23 )»7!

atre By MARK HOSENBALL

Those of you who may be getting tired and bored by the lengthening string of Phillip Roth-type comedies about Jewish families (some people, not a million miles from a "34th Street" reviewer, never really like them in the first place) may be dismayed to learn that the An- nenberg Center's first "professional" offering of its first full season is evidently such a vehicle.

"Hough (sic) in Blazes", a new play by American expatriate Jerome Max, I am told, is about a "Jewish Family, the generation gap, and middle class values."

This description may immediately put off those who had hoped the Center, with memories of last season's lavish and not entirely satisfying production of Bredit's "St. Joan of the Stockyards", would have plumped for something along more standard lines for its second piece, an old favorite, as it were.

But Richard Kirschner, Managing Director of the Annenberg Center, says the Center is not likely to be producing any "old favorites" for some time to come. He quotes Robert Edmund Jones' maxim that "Theatre ought to astonish", and says, "We want to do new stuff."

And, despite the perhaps forbidding premise of "Hough in Blazes", the play may indeed "astonish", for it is being produced in the Kabuki style of Japanese theatre. Robert Mitchell, the Center's resident designer who created the im- pressively overwhelming setting for "St. Joan of the Stockyards" is again likely to prove that Annenberg can be some sort of theatrical showcase. Mitchell is turning the Center's versatile Harold Prince Theatre into a Kabuki Theatre.

"Hough in Blazes" opens October 19 and runs through November 6. The play is to be one of two professional dramatic efforts produced by the Annenberg Center in Academic Year 1971-72. The other will be a play of director-critic Harold Clurman's choosing, schedules for the spring.

In addition to "Hough in Blazes", another professional dramatic event will be^ presented at Annenberg this term. Theatre Pennsylvania, in conjunction with the Philadelphia Theatre Movement, is bringing Siobahn McKenna and her one-woman show "Here are the Ladies" to the Center's ZeUerbach Theatre the second week in November.

Miss McKenna is probably the greatest living Irish actress, and Is certainly one of the best actresses in the

Annenberg gets set Pag* 7

world. Those who have seen her or heard her on records (in Shaw's "St. Joan", among other things) will be able to attest to this. "Here are the Ladies" consists of' readings from Shaw, Joyce, Yeats, Synge, Beckett, and 'Casey (some with whom Miss McKenna has personally worked).

The ticket prices for "Here are the Ladies" may be a bit steep for many students ($5.50 and $6.50), but for those who have an affinity for serious theatre and/ or Ireland, the show is not to be missed.

The Center will also be the focal point for the works of Ilona Gerbner and her "Theatre Lab" adherents. In "Theatre Lab" Mrs. Gerbner, wife of Annenberg School of Communications dean George Gerbner, teaches the only accredited course at the University in the dramatic arts. She is on the staff of the Annenberg Center.

Mrs. Gerbner is to produce two pieces at the Annenberg Center this academic year. The first will be "All My Sons" by Arthur Miller, to run this fall. The second will be a night of one-acters directed by "Theatre Lab" students, to be presented in the spring.

Mrs. Gerbner's productions are meant to be the "student" productions under the aegis of the Annenberg Center itself. However, though a Center official says "All My Sons" is to involve "Theatre Lab" students, one such in- dividual says, "No, she told us none of us would probably make the play." It could be that the production will involve last year's "Theatre Lab" students. The play is to be produced with the full guidance of the Center's professional technical staff.

Other student groups like "Penn Players" are, according to Center director Kirschner, welcomed to present their fare at the Center. The Center cannot provide production assistance to such groups unless the groups can pay for it. Student groups merely using the Center's facilities are charged no rent, however.

Various student musical groups (Glee Club, Orchestra, etc.) have dates scheduled at the Center throughout the coming year. A student musical comedy called "Yours For A Song" had also been slated for production at the Center this fall, but has unexpectedly been can- celled.

Other activities scheduled at the Annenberg Center this year include dance performances by Malvena Taiz's stutlent troupe and imported professional groups. The Annenberg School will continue to present its Documentary Film series. The Center's minute Studio Theatre, scene of last year's "Theatre Lab" one-act workshop, is being con- verted as a permanent cinema, with fixed seats.

According to Richard Kirr-chner, the Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts is meant as a "facility, a professional program, and a research activity of the Annenberg Scho-' ' Tie University owns the Center buil it the Center's activities are fundec mostly by special endowments to the Annenberg School of Communications.

"Penn Players" have a new Artistic Director. Taking over the reins from Tom Dullard and David Shookoff is Bill Dearth, a graduate of Hiram College in Ohio and Temple University. Dearth has also studied at Vienna and Birmingham England, and appeared on National Educational Television.

Dearth says "Penn Players" will offer two series of one-act plays this fall, to be presented in the "Players" second floor Houston Hall haunt. He says the "Players" intend to strike a better balance between modem and classical drama in their presentations this year than they did last year.

Newly elected Penn Players Board Chairman is second year law student John VerStandig, a well-known moustachioed promoter.

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Page • September 23. 1971

Or(«nii«fiont »ch»cfulin» eventa In (h« catefortes brio* ihould" MM compute In- formation, ol lea»» on« week In advance. to Jdtn Strttt Macailn*. Serjeant Hall. 34th and Chriinul Si: BacauM of ipoce llmttotioni we cannol euorantee inclmlon. but we'll try.

Art MUSEUMS/ INSTITUTIONS

Art Alliance 251 S 18th SI K 15 4302

Thru Nov. 1: "Landscape" Oct. 427: OH Paintings by Nelson Shanks. Oct 4 31: Prints, 3D Graphics. Paintings by Herman Cohen & Michael Shelton. Oct. 4 Nov. 15: Silver Sculpture & Grisaille Enamels by Stlg Ake Lund & Harold Helwig, plus Batiks by Oetoro. Oct. 6 Nov. 1: Sculpture by Chris Newman. Prints by Squires. Sherman & Wagner 8. Watercolors by Alan C.iiara. Mon. thru Frl. 10:305. Sat & Sun. 15 Institute ol Contemporary Art - 34th a. Walnut Sis. • 594 7101

Sepi 25 to Oct. 30: Ralael Ferrer creates two environments. Atmospheric. Mon. Fri. 9 5; Wed 9 9. Sat. «. Sun. 12$. Free Philadelphia College ol Art Broad 1 PineSts. 54*0545

Thru Oct 1: Communications Graphics 1970 1971 & the 50 Best TV Commercials of 1970. Mon. Thors 99; Fri. 9-6; Sat. 9 12 noon Philadelphia Museum of Art Parkway al 26th St. P05 0500

Thru Sept: "The City/ Two." Thru Sept. 26: Recent Acquisitions of 20th Century Decorative Arts Tt-ru Nov 28 Drawings & Prints by Giovenn Benedetto Castiglione. Sept. 24 Nov. 7 Chinese Calligraphy. 9 5 dally. Sal. & Sun. For rel lee tons on the Arnsberg collection, see article this issue.

OALLERIES Everything (or Everybody 517 South Street MA7 2169or WA2 7897

Oct 3 25: Mixed works by varied artists. Tues. thru Sunday. 11-5. Fontana Gallery 307 lona Ave. Narberth M04 3087

Thru Sept: Paintings. Prints & Sculpture by Ariane Berman. & Multiple Dimensions, a collection ot contemporary objects.' Tues. thru Sat II 4:30; Eves, by appt only. Marion Locks Gallery 1524 Walnut St. 546 0322 Thru Oct. 31 "New Work in New Space." Dally 116, Wed. -til 9. Mekler Gallery 1716 Locust St. PE5-2540

Thru Sept.. Recent Acquisitions. October 1 X Alexander Calder Sculpture, Drawings, Gouaches. S. Lithoa. Mon. Sat. 114. McCleaf Gallery 1/13 Walnut St 665 8130

Sept 26 Oct. 15: Oils, watercolors. pastels by Humbert Howard. Mon Sat 95:30; Wed. eves by appt. Newman Galleries 1625 Walnut St. L03 1779

Thru Oct. 9: Norman Guthrle Rudolph European Watercolors. Mon. Sat. 9 5 30; Wed 'til 9. Peale Galleries 1811 Chestnut St. L04 0219

Thru Oct 13: William Bazioles Oils & Watercolors. plus Paintings t Drawings by Eugene Baguskas. Tues. Sat. 10$; Sun. 1-S. Philomathean Art Gallery College Hall. 4th floor BA2 6698

Sept 24 thru Oct II: Theatre Drawings by Al Hlrschfeld. Playing hide and seek with Nina. Mon Fri 2-e. Public is cordially invited to the opening reception on Frlday.Sept. 24, from 7 to 9 p.m. Print Club 1614 Lalimer St. PES6090

Thru Oct 2: Varied works by four artists. Daily. 12 4 Sat. 10 5 The Wallnuts 2018 Locust St. 732 8850

See article this issue. Thru Sept. 31: Paintings & Drawings by r. d Danilger. Oct. 3 23: Paintings, Drawings m Graphics by Jean Zaleski Mon Fri. 106; Wed. 'til 8; Sat 116.

Cinema ADIOS SABATA Duke I6th and Chestnut LOS 9881

Cool Yul mixes with Maximillian's Mexicans Not for the overly intelligent. CARNAL KNOWLEDGE Stage Door Cinema 16th and Market L03 2775

JONATHON -Ijmean if you couldn't have it mutual.

SANDY Yommaan. would I rather be the one who loves or .is loved?

JONATHON: Yeah. SANDY it's not that easy a question I

mink I'd rather be in love. Continued next week

CRY UNCLE! - Duchess 16th and Chestnut L03 9881

Something new: A. funny skin flick. So what's funny? So what's new?

THE DEVILS Mldtown Broad and Chestnut LO77021

Oliver Reed is a priest who humps pretty members of his congregation. Vanessa Redgrave is a nun with a humped back And Ken Russel is a director who once directed a bomb titled Billion Dollar Brain. A GUNFIGHT and THE DESERTER Goldman 15th and Chestnut L07 4413

Two westerns that should have been left in the can. Made in government Inflicted simulation. KLUTE Cinema 19 19th and Chestnut L09-4175

A poorly done mystery plot and sloppy love story dilute the quality of this otherwise well- drawn portrait of the life and extremely hard times of a New York City prostitute, played very well by a very attractive Jane Fonda. Donald Sutherland is the one in the white socks and funny blue p. I 's. LET'S SCARE JESSICA TO DEATH Regency 16th and Chestnut LO72310

Although we haven't seen this film yet, we say go see it on the strength that Zohra Lam- pert, a genuinely fine actress, stars. THE OMEGA MAN Milgrim 16th and Market L04 5861

Let's hope this isn't the alpha film for the omega man. RYAN'S DAUGHTER Trans-Lux 15th and Chestnut LO3-3086

Last two weeks to be bored by this filmic dinosaur. SHAFT Fox 16th and Market L07 6007

Black Bogart belts baddies, balls broads SOMEONE BEHIND THE DOOR Eric II 1911 Walnu: L07 4986

We don't know what this is about. It stars Anthony Perkins, so how bad can It be Call us prejudiced TOGETHER Arcadia 16th and Chestnut

LOO 0928 What, her legs?

THE TOUCH Eric I 1907 Walnut LO7 0230

We;re speechless since, we found out that Bergman employed Elliott Gould for his first English language film.

WEST SIDE STORY and AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS Mark I Holiday Inn, 18th and Market L04-6222

A.; A musical about gang warfare In New York City.

B.) An adaption of the classic Jules Verne novel.

C.) All of the above D.) None of the above.

O OF P CAMPUS

GRAND ILLUSION Christian Association Film Society Christian Association Auditorium

Sept. 23. 7:30 and 9:30 P.M. 75« BEYOND THE VALLEY OF THE DOLLS PUC Movie Irvine Auditorium

7 and 9:30 P.M.. Sept 25 $1 RIDER ON THE RAIN RLC Movie Irvine Auditorium

Sept. 26, 7 P.M. SI THE ORGANIZER Christian Association Film Society Christian Association Auditorium

Sept. 28. 7:30 and 9.30 P.M. 7$c BATTLE OF ALGIERS Christian Association Film Society Christian Association Auditorium

Sept 29 7:30 and 9 30 P.M. 75t

Music Academy of Music Broad and Locust Streets PE 5-7378

Sept. 23 at 8:30 P.M . Sept. 24 at 2 P.M., Sept 25 at 8:30 P.M.

Sept. 27 at 8 30 P.M. Philadelphia Or chestra. Eugene Ormandy conducting, Sophia Van Sante. Meno Soprano Harris Symphony No 3 Berg Seven Early Songs. Schoenberg ' Song of the Wood Dove" from "Gurrelleder", Berlioz Fantastic Symphony. Op 14a Tenth Presbyterian Church 17th and Spruce Streets

A Recital given by organ virtuoso. Dr. Robert Elmore including works by Franck, Blngham, Messiaen and Elmore Sept. 26. 5 P M

ROCK/ FOLK/ JAZZ/ ETC.

CHERRY HILL ARENA September 24 Savoy Brown, Cactus, and Bommerang will grace the stage with all those subtle and gentle sounds that so typify them MAIN POINT 874 Lancaster Ave. LAS 3375 September 23 26 Jerry Jefl Walker, of "Mr. Bojangles" and Circus Maximus fame will appear along with the Johnstons. September 28 Sandy Denny, formerly of Falrport Convention, is certainly worth cat ching, but hurry.

VILLANOVA UNIVERSITY September 24 the Beach Boys, in concert, and :hls ain't no revival. Not to be inissed by anyone who has managed to transcend surf boards.

WORLD CONTROL STUDIOS 5318 Germantown Ave GEn 5454 September 24 26 U. Utah Phillips, the Golden Voice of the Great Southwest, with Saul Broudy and Andy Cohen. Without a doubt Utah is one of the best, a bit maniacal to be sure, but a pur- veyor of Americana not often experienced East of the Mississippi.

Theatre THE PRISONER Hedgerow Theatre Moylan. Pa. L06 2482

Through October 2; Thursday through Saturday at 8 30 P.M. THE HEADHUNTERS Bucks County Playhouse New Hope. Pa. 862 2041

Through September 26. CATCH ME IF YOU CAN Abbey Stage Door 6615 Rising Sun Avenue PI2 8324

Friday and Saturday at 8:30 P.M. 1776 Forrest Theatre WA3 1515 1114 Walnut Street

Tuesdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m. Matinees at 2 p.m. Wednesdays. Thursdays, and Saturdays.

Add ft\U 6 to the above mystical digits and you get the telephone number of City Hall? THE RISE AND FALL OF THE ENTIRE WORLD AS SEEN THROUGH THE EYES OF COLE PORTER Manning Street Theatre KI5 7306 1520 Lombard Street

Re opening on September 29. GENESIS Vesey Auditorium. Villanova University 527- 9783 villanova. Pu.

Friday and Saturday at 8:30 P.M. THE ROOM Dramatic Workshop 1538 Pine Street

Thursday, Friday. Saturday and Sund .y at 8:30 P.M.

TV Movies THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 33 "Living It Up" (1954). Dean Martin. Jerry Lewis. 4:30 P.M. (10) (C). "Night People" (19541 Gregory Peck Buddy Ebson. Broderick Crawford. 8:30 P.M. (17) (C). "The Ambushers" (19*7;. Dean Martin. Senta Berger. 9 P.M. (10) (C). "This Above All" (1942). Joan Fontaine. Tyrone Power. 11:30 P.M. (17). "The D.I." (1957). Jack Webb. Don Dubbins. 1 A.M. (10). FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 14 "The Rawhide Years" (1956) Tony Curtis. 4:30 P.M. (10) (C). "Lock, Stock and Barrel" (1971). Tim Matheson. Claude Aklns. 8:30 P.M. (3) (C). "The Enemy Below" (19S7). Robert Mltchum. Theodore Bikel. 8:30 P.M. (17) (C). "A Tattered Web" (1971). Lloyd Brodges, Frank Converse. 9:30 P.M. (10) (C). "San Antonio" (1945). Errol Flynn, Alexis Smith. 11 P.M. (48) (C)

34th Street Maoaiine

"To Hell and Back" (1955) Audio Murphy. Jack Kelley. 11:30 P.M. (10) (C). "$ Fingers" (1955). James Mason. Michael Rennie. 11:30 P.M. (17). "Nightmare in the Sun" (1963). Ursula An- dress. Aldp Ray. 1 A.M. (6). "Tarian and the Trappers" (19$8). Gordon Scott. 1:30 A.M. (10). SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 3$ Double Fa-lure: 1. "The Horrible Or. Hich- ceck" (1962). Robert Flemyng. (C). 2. "The Killer Shrews" (1959). James Best7 P.M. (17). Double Feature: 1. "Magnetic Monster" (1953). Rlcharti Carson. 2. "Bedlam" (1946). Boris Karloff. Anna Lee. 7:30 P.M. (40). "The Deadly Dream" (1*71). LloyoSBrodges. . Janet Leigh. 8:30 P.M. (6) (C). "The Secret War of Harry Fngg" (1968). Paul Newman Andrew Duggan. 9 P.M. (3) (C). "The Enemy Below" (19S7). Robert Mltchum, Theodore Bikel. 11 P.M. (17) (C). "Twilight for the Gods' (1958). Rock Hudson, Cyd Charisse 11:25 (10) (C). "Asylum for a Spy" (1957). Robert Stack, Felicia Farr. 11:30 P.M. (3) (C). "Rio Grande" (1950). John Wayne. Maureen

■O'Hara. 11:30 P.M. (6). "The House of Fear". (1945). Basil Rathbone. Nigel Bruce. 11:30 P.M. (48). "Buffalo Bill" (1964) Gordon Scott 1:30 A.M. (6) (C).

"Devils ot Darkness" (1964) Hubert Noel. 1:4$ A.M. (10) (C),

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 34 "Dear Brlglrte" (1965). James Stewart. 4 P.M. (6) (C). "Son of Fury" (1942). Gene Tlerney. 7 P.M. (17). "Bandolero" (1968). James Siewart, Dean Martin. 7:30 P.M. (10) (C). "The Silencers" (1966). Dean Martin, Stella Stevens. 9 P.M. (6) (C). "Mambo" (1954). Michael Rennie, Vlttorio Gassman. 9 P.M. (17). "Two Flags West" (1950). Joseph Cotten Jeft Chandler. 11:30 P.M. (6). "The Wayward Bus" (1957) Jayne Mansfield. 2 A.M. (10). MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 27 "711 Ocean Drive" (1950). Edmond O'Brien. 4:30 P.M. (10). "The Enemy Below;; (1957). Robert Mltchum. Theodo-e Bikel. 8:30 P.M. (17) (C); "Where were you when the Lights Went Out?" 11968). Doris Day, Terry Thomas. 9 P.M. (3) (CO. "No Place Like Homicide" (1961). Kenneth Connor. 11:30 (17). "It Should Happen to You" (1954) Judy Holliday. 1 A.M. (10). TUESDAY. SEPTEMBER 28 "Papa's Delicate Condition" (19661 Jackie Gleoson 4:30 P.M. (10) (C). "Five Desperate Women" (1971). Robert Conrad. Julie Sommars. 8:30 P.M. (6) (C). "A Man Called Adam" (1966). Sammy Davis; Jr., Louis Armstrong, Frank Sinatra. Jr. 1:30 P.M. (17). "Body and Soul" (1947). John Garfield. Lili Palmer. 11:30 P.M. (17). "Bugles in the Afternoon" (19S2). Ray Mllland. 1 A.M. (10). WEDNESDAY. SEPTEMBER 29 "Honeymoon With a Stranger" (1969). Janet Leigh. 4:30 P.M. (10) (C). "The Long Hot Summer" (1958). Paul Newman, Joanne Woodward. Orson Welles. 8:30 P.M. (17) (C). "The Enemy Below" (19$7). Theodore Bikel. Robert Mltchum. 11:30 P.M. (17) (C). "September Aftalr" (1951). Joan Fontaine. 1 A.M. (10).

LAWRENCE M. COLDFARl

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JOSE FELICIAN0 Academy of Music Swdir, October 10th, 8 P.M.

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