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US serials-buff Jim Shoenberger writes about serials at 'Serial Report' in January 2000.
Well, he fireworks have been enjoyed, the headache has subsided and it's time to check my New Year's list of resolutions. There is the perennial pledge to lose a few pounds. But for the purpose of this article I want to delve into resolution # 2. The motion picture serial is unique to the 20th century. I think you will agree that we'll never enjoy this particular form of entertainment again.
My year 2000 resolution is to try and share my thoughts as to why I became so enchanted with the special world of cliffhangers. I've given it a lot of thought and truly believe the first serial I ever saw was one of the two 'Tailspin Tommy' serials. Depending on which one it was, I would have either been 5 or 6 years of age. Maybe you can help me identify the title that has touched my life and my personality. The scene that ended the episode that remains so vivid in my memory is this: An airplane flies through the sky. Somebody discovers an explosive hidden in the plane. The bomb blows up and the plane is destroyed! Sorry, that's all I remember. 'Tailspin Tommy' (1934) or 'Tailspin Tommy in the Great Air Mystery' (1935)?
I do recall being stunned by this completely unexpected development. If memory serves, I had to be bodily carried from the theatre because I wanted to sit through the next show to see what happened. Ah, the innocence of youth! After a few more visits to the neighbourhood movie house, it began to sink in that I had to return each Saturday to see what happened to the hero. I must have been rather naive because until I was nearly ten years old I actually believed my screen heroes were in danger of being killed. The seven-day period stretching from one Saturday matinee to the next was interminable. The fact five of those days were probably going to be spent in school did no lighten my load.
It was around 'Mysterious Doctor Satan' (1940) when I began to get a little suspicious my serial idols weren't just the luckiest people in the world to survive from week to week. (Hey, sometimes you get a little smarter as you get older.) Some worldy wise member of my Boy Scout troop took me into his confidence and revealed to me the facts of life about... movie stuntmen. Rather than being disappointed, I was fascinated. It was going to be fun to try and spot someone other than the actor I watched each week do the stunts. And boy, how I loved the stunts. Whether it was an action sequence or a fight scene, it was only the basic law of gravity that kept me even close to my seat.
And the music score! Pulse pounding themes kept my youthful senses seething. My friends and I particularly enjoyed the opening theme song from the serial, 'Zorro's Fighting Legion'. Often on our bicycles we would ride along and sing: 'We ride, with the wind over hill, / over dale, with a spirit that cannot fail. Men of Zorro are we'. I know there are more verses than this, but hey, this is all we could remember.
The theatre managers had some devious ways to assure our continuing patronage. Sometimes (to the first 100 kids only) they would give out comic books. For some reason, which I did not understand then or now, they never had any covers. Infrequently, a real live movie star would appear in person on stage. My heart was really pounding the day actrees Judy Canova came to visit. She was on a War bond tour and, having been told her films were usually shown at this theatre, she came to sell defence stamps and bonds before the regular Saturday show started. I recall handing her a dollar and getting a big smile and a sincere sounding 'Thank you'.
But the favourite ploy of management was to start a new serial the same day the last episode of the current cliff-hanger was screened.
As I entered my teen-age years I began to develop a considerably more democratic attitude towards 'the girl' or serial heroine. In earlier years she was the cause of exasperation to me and my friends as she was eternally getting captured and used as a bait to lure the male hero to an early doom. This, of course, when she wasn't in front of some sort of stampede, trapped in a raging fire or earth shattering explosion or simply falling off a high cliff. But now inexplicably, I was mellowing towards these ladies that were becoming increasingly intriguing to me in face and form. Because I would view the serial cast credits 12 or 15 times before the last episode, I began to recognize and identify these leading ladies. In my conversations with my movie going friends, I began to sprinkle in names like Kay Adridge, Louise Currie, Lorna Gray and Linda Stirling. I did not mind these lovely ladies getting into trouble now, because in my Class A daydreams it was me rescuing these fair damsels.
My fondness for serials continued to the final new productions, 'Blazing the Overland Trail' (1956). My interest remained, but for the next few years I had to content myself with re-issues of serials I'd already seen. Then serials began to appear in other formats: my living room television set. A local department store sponsored a TV show that featured a complete chapter of 'Flash Gordon' (6 April 1936) every Sunday for 13 weeks. The following Sunday they began a 15 week run of 'Flash Gordon's Trip to Mars' (21st March 1938).
When this ended they started 12 chapters of 'Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe' (1940). Then it was 12 episodes of 'Buck Rogers' (1939). When this serial finished they started all over again with the first 'Flash Gordon'. They continued these repeat showings for several years. Business became so good due to these weekly showings that the store decided to show its appreciation to the public and hired the serial's title actor, Buster Crabbe, to fly into Chicago for a one day in-person appearance.
This was long before an actor or sports star charged money for their autograph. In those days, it was considered a compliment to be asked to sign your name. The day Crabbe arrived at the store it was so crowded and the lines were so long they nearly had a riot. We wre approaching the mid-1960s now. My interest in the enduring pleasures of watching old serials remained strong.
So, I made a decision that chaged my life. I got together with a few friends that longed for the Saturday matinees of our youth. We bought some 16mm sound projectors and began to rent serials at $3 a chapter from a local film library. We met every couple of months and took turns hosting our serial showings. I suggested we name our new film society the Cliffhangers Club. My friends agreed. We now enjoyed these classics on the big screen. Times were changing and a band new opportunity to meet the serial heroes and heroines I had admired for so many years was about to begin.
In 1972 the first regularly scheduled convention to meet the movie stars in person began. It's still going strong 29 years later and the 2000 convention will be held in Memphis, TN, August 2nd through 5th. I attended that 1972 get-together - along with Serial Report editor Boyd Magers and about 200 others - and had the exciting pleasure of meeting my very first serial star, Red Ryder himself, Donald Barry.
During the following years, I had the good furtune to become firends with many of these serial stars. I had the thrill of being a guest in the homes of such diverse personalities as Kirk Alyn, Frances Gifford, Roy Barcroft, George J. Lewis, Adrian Booth, Walter Reed, Harry Lauter, Louise Currie, Richard Simmons, Jock O'Mahoney, Kay Adridge, Frank Coghlan Jr., William Benedict, Milburn Stone and Marshall Reed.
With the constantly improving technology of video tape in recent years, the serial collector is being offered the best quality of newly surfacing titles. As recently as 5 years ago (1995) I had almost given up hope of ever seeing certain favourite cliffhanger titles. Today, I proudly display VHS tapes with names like 'King of the Royal Mounted', 'Terry and the Pirates', 'Captain Midnight', 'King of the Mounties', 'Jack Armstrong' and 'Green Hornet strikes again'.
Am I satisfied? No. As president of the Cliffhangers Club I am a man with a mission... to see them all! There are those among you who may smile and say, 'Yeah, Mission Impossible!'. And you may well be right. But with the last missing Columbia serial , 'Brenda Starr, Reporter', and so many Universal titles like the two 'Secret Agent X-9's, 'Jungle Jim', 'Clancy of the Mounted' and Tom Tyler's 'Jungle Mystery', the search goes on. And if we should find any of these lost titles, readers of Serial Report will be among the first to know.
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