I would sometimes imagine the show as Maynard’s Island, I think that would have been better.
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Yes! It was a TV show and there was a Gilligan - who was the second mate on a pleasure cruise that was taking some tourist on a three hour tour, but ended up on a deserted island. Much hilarity ensued.
Many Americans of a certain age will be able to sing you the whole theme song.
The professor could make anything except, apparently a raft to get them out…
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And inexplicably, the tourists (except the professor) packed extra clothes for a three-hour tour! 
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it was somehow a hit network show in 60s prime-time, and was heavily syndicated on local-only UHF stations from coast to coast who needed cheap programming for the after-school slot; which makes more sense since the show was written for the mental level of an elementary-school-aged kid. due to this, it gained generations of young fans through the eighties until kid-only cable channels grabbed that demographic. the same thing happened with the Brady Bunch and the original run of Scooby Doo. All brainless shows, but still pretty fun to watch.
the opening scene of Linklater’s Dazed and Confused is a reflection of the syndicated impact, the teens are playing a game of trying to name every episode from memory:
edit: annnd that part is nowhere on YouTube but this is just afterwards where the character explains the show’s premise, anyway:
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And then there was Shaft . Gordon Parks, who directed the movie, was already a Black Renaissance man: a pioneering photographer, an author and a filmmaker. Shaft was based on a detective novel by a man named Ernest Tidyman, who turned it into a screenplay with a man named John D. F. Black. Black was white, as was Tidyman, as was the Shaft in Tidyman’s novel. Onscreen, though, Shaft turned Black
Um, no, not at all. He was originally Black in the novels. Tidyman received an NAACP image award for them.
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Sheesh, lousy fact checking there. From the Smithsonian no less!
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I completely enjoyed this. Including the masterful bluegrass played and sung by Belgians, Including the actors!
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That looks amazing.
Bluegrass song by people not from Appalachia always makes me a bit sad. It reminds me of Dr. Gainty… the mandolin player. I’m not sure this video really captures his kindness and good vibes. He was working on a history of bluegrass in Japan.
RIP Denis… here’s a song he wrote…
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I remember loving this movie, but this makes me go “WOW…” all over again.
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Watching this. I never got round to it but that shot alone will make me do it.
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Missed this the first time around, but it caught my attention this morning. Between Penn’s performance, the Nazi hunting, dialogue, scenery, and David Byrne’s cameo (including his NYC installation - featured on BB I think?), this hits a lot of great notes:
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Sean Penn playing Robert Smith in tax exile in Dublin in around 1990 (with tax Dodger Bono’s daughter acting).
I love consequences of love and his Andreotti film IL Caiman. I think I saw consequences just after going to a Thomas Demand exhibition which made it way better.
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This review/analysis helps me see just why later Wes Anderson movies have struck me as increasingly pointless and empty.
Wes Anderson’s new film The French Dispatch offers the most extreme sign yet of a twenty-five-year process – the mutation of the director’s taste for tweaking the world into a need to rebuild it from scratch, an imperial-utopian project that extends far beyond the realm of typography and décor. The subject is an Anglophone magazine concerned with the life of a place called Ennui-sur-Blasé, but while the history or mythology of The New Yorker and post-war Paris are both somewhere in the mix, and even provide an element of gravitas, it is typical of Anderson’s procedure that details of all kinds have been modified.
The urge to fiddle and fabricate, now dominant and defining, once occupied a supporting role. Though Anderson was eager to stamp his mark on things, he seemed to recognise the limits stubbornly imposed by fact and sense. During the first half of his career to date, a run of work – witty and arch yet poignant – that established him as one of the most distinctive writer-directors in American cinema, a kind of Disney Pinter, characters such as Max and Herman in Rushmore (1999) or the ramshackle family in The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) slotted into a series of recognisable, if varyingly stylized and frequently nameless, turn-of-the-millennium locales. So Etheline Tenenbaum’s memoir Family of Geniuses , like the personal-finance guide published by her accountant and suitor Henry Sherman and the plays of her adopted daughter Margot, exists alongside the work of Tom Stoppard and Tom Clancy, Anton Chekhov and Maurice Sendak – or at least his phrase ‘where the wild things are’, which appears in a magazine cover line for an article that designates Margot’s lover, Eli Cash, the James Joyce of the Wild West. And though Margot’s copy of Between the Buttons appears to omit the song ‘Connection’, Anderson was still offering a version of modern metropolitan life in which a depressed thirty-four-year-old may find herself reverting to the enthusiasm for The Rolling Stones that she acquired as an adolescent in the late 1970s. . . .
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Whoa. I’m thinking some folks backed slowly and carefully away from the table in the writers’ room for that show. 
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Pixel rot?
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