GOOD COMPANY

As readers of these notes have learned, Before and After Cagney & Lacey, will be released soon by McFarland and Company publishing house. The memoir covers just about everything in my life other than the materials from my first volume (Cagney & Lacey … and Me).

Why I so shamelessly call this to your attention is to reveal what is not so widely known … and that is the final motivating factor which got me to complete the book after having it languish … unfinished … in an unmarked drawer for nearly twenty years.

What got me off the beach and back in front of my word processor was an edition of Variety and its publication of “The 100 Greatest TV Shows of All Time.”

Nothing of mine made that list. Not the award-winning mini-series, John Steinbeck’s East of Eden, nor The Trials of Rosie O’Neill, nor the Peabody Award winning series, Christy.

Jeopardy is on that Variety list. So is something called Enlightened, along with Freaks and Geeks, Community, and the animated Bojack Horseman.

My iconic, award-winning series, Cagney & Lacey did not make that list of 100, but Top Chef, and General Hospital did.

Are you kidding me?

Please, do not get me started. The last time I got cranked up about this I turned out over 100,000 words, which in case you have forgotten while reading the last few paragraphs, you will soon be able to purchase by way of Amazon or wherever such things are sold these days.

Why do I bring this up now? Well, Variety is one thing, The New York Times, however … the widely proclaimed “Newspaper of Record” … is something else altogether.

In writing about the demise of late-night TV, brought about by the CBS cancellation of Stephen Colbert, the Times did a homage to the genre, mourning the loss. Was Jack Paar mentioned? No. A serious omission, but what, almost anyone of the age of majority might ask, what (I repeat) about Steve Allen!??? He only invented the format, the desk, the interviews, the monologue, the show itself. Mr. Allen was never mentioned. Talk about “Fake News.”

A week or so before this major failing, another NY Times piece came out listing “The 30 Greatest Living American Song writers” with not even an honorable mention for Billy Joel. Hello???  … “New York State of Mind” … the best song written in the last half of the 20^th century, the anthem for our nation’s signature city. Forget his other multiple megahits, that one song alone should enshrine Billy Joel forever in whatever list one might devise on the idiom.

I will stay away from the crazy making fact of Randy Newman not being mentioned, nor Joni Mitchell, nor Lady Gaga, nor Beyonce. I am no music maven, but 17 of the 30 in the NYTimes were names I had never before even heard.

Nevermind who is writing these songs … who is authoring these articles? Is it some twentysomething Generation G dude, or an AI device with a feed from no one born before 2001? It is a very good thing Hoagy Carmichael died years ago because if he were still alive, and the NY Times had excluded “Stardust” … as this article intimates would be more than likely … the fact of being so blatantly ignored, would surely have caused his heart to stop beating.

I know when I first perused the article of these living songwriters, I quickly checked my Google machine to see how it was I missed the obituary of Billy Joel for surely, I thought he could not still be among the living and be so dishonored.

And yet he was. And so was Steve Allen and so was Cagney & Lacey. At least my show finally wound up in good company.

 

Barney Rosenzweig

ARTIFICIAL, YES. INTELLIGENCE, MAYBE NOT SO MUCH

 

I could always count on Google. Smarter (by a lot) than Siri on the ubiquitous Apple phones which easily outnumber my Android device, “Okay, Google” always got me a complete, satisfactory, and accurate answer to my queries.

At least so I thought.

I had, I always believed, not asked for much … just enough to keep me from lifting that heavy dictionary of mine or wandering across the room to the bookshelf with its various volumes which after some searching time might reveal that which I sought.

“Okay, Google,” ended my weightlifting. And it was right there at the dinner table, or at my desk, or on my couch … in my cell phone … giving me information and amazing my I-phoned friends whom Siri continued to frustrate.

Until now.

These days, “okay, Google” most often connects with me with a so-called upgrade named Gemini … a new attraction in the world of AI.

Who was it that said, “Let the buyer beware”?

I suppose I could ask Google that question, but I am no longer confident of the answer. This wannabe intelligence machine spews out data with a profound sense of self-satisfaction that may be either wrong, downright false, or totally contradictory.

Most recently, my friend, the award-winning actress Brenda Vaccaro, had agreed to compose a sentence or two endorsing my new memoir, Before and After Cagney & Lacey. I wanted to be sure I was crediting her properly and queried Google if Ms. Vaccaro had won an Academy Award for her memorable supporting role in Midnight Cowboy.

“You are confusing Brenda Vaccaro for Sylvia Miles,” said the Google entity. “Ms. Vaccaro did not appear in Midnight Cowboy.”

Say, what!?

“Okay, Google,” I rejoined. Please list the actors in Midnight Cowboy.”

Up came the list, and sure enough Brenda Vaccaro was cataloged right there on my cell phone screen close to Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight, as she should have been.

I pointed out the contradiction to Mr. Google and promptly got an apology.

I was willing to leave it at that until some days later when I wanted to confirm my own memory as to the date of the passing of my dear friend, Sam Perlmutter.

Sam’s surname is not commonplace, but opting for clarity, I specified not only Sam’s full name to Google but the additional information that he was a well-known entertainment lawyer in Los Angeles and that he was the driving force behind the invention and promotion of the George Foreman Grill.

It took three tries and four conflicting pieces of information about individuals with the name of Sam Perlmutter, or something close to that, before nailing it down to the actual person.

I next checked Gemini for the closing date for the HBO series, Hacks, and got two different answers before getting the (I hope) right one of May 28.

The lesson learned from all this? Do not throw away your dictionary, your thesaurus, your encyclopedia, or your newspaper. There is still something to be said for the written word.

Don’t believe me? You could ask Google.

 

Barney Rosenzweig

What’s Up? Docs.

With all that is transpiring in this Fisher Island household at present, I found my attention span (or perhaps my tolerance) somewhat limited. Plopping down into my semi easy chair, I eschewed my usual preference for serialized storytelling, turned away from the melodrama of the stand-alone movie, and instead decided to sit back and learn something … or at least observe something … in the form of the documentary.

I turned to Netflix where I quickly glommed onto a quartet of better than average pieces of filmmaking. Operation Varsity Blues … the story of the college admission scandal… was the least impressive of the three but still worth the time spent watching. Much of it is old news about the rich and famous having their way with college entrance boards to favor their children.

Surprise, surprise: rich white people have advantages that the less rich, less white folks do not have. What did shock a bit was that some folks (but not many and certainly not enough) went to jail for their duplicity.

What is sad is that the documentary did not go at all into the more current and (I think) more important aspects of what could be called Varsity Blues … that is the cost/reward ratio of today’s college education and just how much (or little) that degree is really going to be worth in a world of AI and all that portends. 

So … a little less adventuresome … a little out of date, but a not uninteresting expose of something we already knew or (at least) assumed.

The Social Dilemma was arguably the best of the four films if for no other reason than because of subject matter. If you can watch this and still watch your kids on their cell phones at the dinner table you are just not paying attention. Here is my solid recommendation. Make this Netflix documentary required viewing at your house and, if possible, watch as a family. I assure you that it is a worthwhile activity.

Then there is The New Yorker at 100. Even at one hour and thirty-seven minutes, it largely works at holding the interest of any viewer. The magazine of the American elite … which began in 1925 … is still going strong at 100 even when such publications as LIFE, Time, LOOK, The Saturday Evening Post, and others have either faded or flat out disappeared. No small accomplishment, and this look behind the scenes of just who makes it tick and how they do it is … well, if not fun, certainly a legitimate way to spend nearly one minute for each of those hundred years.

And finally, Murder in Monaco. Advertised as “Monaco’s O.J. trial,” I found myself riveted to this incredible true story of the murder of an international billionaire in the town made famous by Grace Kelly at least twice (once with the Prince of this microstate on the French Riviera and the other time with royalty from Hollywood in the personage of Cary Grant). Giving equal time where it is due, one should also point out that James Bond sort of made Monaco notorious as well.

The documentary is really more like a movie than any of the other films mentioned here and, in this case, I think that is a good thing. See them all.

Consider it a healthy reason to have an appointment with a doc.

 

Barney Rosenzweig

ME AND MR. ROGERS

I have some friends who are Democrats. Folks who march, protest, volunteer, and donate money. I used to be among their number, but I just cannot bring myself to do any of it anymore.

Will Rogers said it best nearly a hundred years ago when he uttered the quote most associated with his brilliance, “… I don’t belong to any organized political party. I’m a Democrat.”

More often than not… okay, a lot more often than not… okay, I can’t remember voting for a Republican since Earl Warren ran for Governor in California… so, I concede my bias, and admit I vote the Democratic ticket, take solace in political thought put forward by the so-called “Left,” and scoff at their Republican counterparts.

While that remains true for me, I find that I can no longer endorse the lack of political skills, or the dearth of anything resembling the backbone or will of any Democrat to aggressively … and/or effectively… take the battle to their right-wing opposition.

You would think Donald Trump has, of late, made it easy for his political opposition. It should not take a rocket scientist, nor even a subscription to AI to do this. A fight with the Pope!? Posting a picture of yourself as a healing Jesus of Nazareth!?  For Christ’s sake … are you kidding me?

High inflation, an unpopular/unnecessary war, a humongous defeat of his political pal and ally, Victor Orban in Hungary, the regular pardoning of true criminals, including those who pled guilty to their crimes, the “promise” to issue mass pardons to White House staff before he exits the Presidency … all in addition to the obvious/unseemly monetizing of his office. How is it I still have no confidence that the Dems will get their act together and have anything that resembles what happened in Budapest happen here?

Let me take you back to the last inauguration of Donald Trump in January of 2025. It was predictable that this bombastic political animal would go off script… and that, in the process, he might even take to insulting a predecessor or two.

A few rows behind the about-to-be-new commander-in-chief sat Barack Obama, Bill and Hillary Clinton, and President and Mrs. Joe Biden. Sure enough, and early in his speech to boot, Trump began to harangue Joe Biden… not only a still very much alive and only just former… President, but one sitting only feet away.

Had any one of those former Chief Executives simply given a hand signal to his four seatmates, the Clintons and the Bidens and former President Obama could have risen en masse from their chairs and walked out right in the middle of the Trump diatribe.

It would have set a tone. It would have made a statement about what is acceptable in American politics and what is not, and it would have said volumes about the “new Democrats” and their recently discovered backbones.

No one gave that signal… just as no one thought to prepare … or have a plan… for Trump’s latest State of the Union address.

That Trump would be aggressively offensive was once again predictable. Still, neither leaders Jeffries or Schumer could figure out what could be done that would show some strength… some sense of “I’m mad as hell and I’m not gonna take it anymore.”

Some party hack came up with the idea of inviting Epstein’s victims to the affair. Did you see them on TV? I sure didn’t. Were they in some kind of uniform? Did they each wear a colorful sash… or scarf… or cap… or something to distinguish them from the throng? None of their hosts thought to have them do that. Was the idea to intimidate The Donald? Lots of luck with that.

This is nothing new with the Dems.  Over twenty years ago, as someone applying to work on the John Kerry for President campaign, I remember learning that Bob Shrum, who was running the campaign for Kerry, would have to approve anything I was to do beyond stuffing envelopes.

I was incredulous.  Forget the fact that in those days it was generally conceded that few had ever been more creative in getting favorable press coverage in the television medium than I, there was the very fact of Shrum himself. How was it possible he could be leading the campaign for Kerry?

Shrum’s previous job was to lead the campaign for Al Gore four years before. Does anyone remember how that turned out? In fact, despite having previously handled the campaigns of a number of different Democratic candidates for President, Mr. Shrum has never had a winner.

Forget the first few, in my line of what it was I used to do for work, if you had a debacle on your list of credits such as Gore v Bush you most likely would never work again… let alone be given the next top job that came along.

As if by way of explanation, the politico witnessing my incredulity at Shrum’s presence in the campaign, simply said,

“..He writes great concession speeches.”

And with that, perhaps it becomes clearer why the party’s symbol is an ass.

 

Barney Rosenzweig

GIVE ME A BREAK … NO, MAYBE NOT

Does the phrase “Mercury is in retrograde” resonate at all? If you need a moment to look it up, I will pause in this narrative; frankly, I could use the break.

Okay … now, having done your research … back to our nearest planetary neighbor. Put aside the fact that entire civilizations have been threatened with extermination and that once again we are going to dig for oil off the coast of California as well as in the Gulf of (I still call it) Mexico. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

In my smaller world, my Island neighbor of over 30 years just passed. He was 97 and not a great advertisement to entice me to go much beyond my present 88 years, but still … a loss, nonetheless. My best friend confronted the recurrence of major cancer (false, alarm… thank you, very much), my spouse fell, fracturing her right leg just below the knee and, and, and … that brings me back to the planet Mercury and whatever the hell it is doing.

There is a theory that we are born with only so many heart beats and when we use them up, we die. Could be. I have come to believe that we are born with a finite limit of stress we can endure and, in my case, just about my entire allotment was used up in California building a career and eventually a television icon out of Cagney & Lacey. 

Worn out at 58 years of age (read my new book, Before and After Cagney & Lacey, out soon from McFarland Publishing) I moved to Miami Beach … as far as I could get from Hollywood while still residing somewhere in the continental United Stateswith a warm beach.

That move was 30 years ago. It has been just over double 30 hours since that leg break and I am already stressed to the max. It is not my spouse. She is a brick. A patient patient, and a good soldier. She is not the problem; it is the new world for which I am not prepared.

Do you know that when you Google the locations for Medical Supply Stores in Miami Beach you get four addresses, none of which are still in business? They just no longer exist. Try to buy a bedpan at a Walgreens or CVS; fuhgeddaboudit. Retail is Amazon and you just tell your spouse to (literally) hold her water until that truck arrives in two or three days.

A wheelchair, a porta potty, a walker? Amazon will get them to you … disassembled. This, for a guy who has trouble figuring out which end of a light bulb gets screwed into … what’s it called?... a socket?

People ask me if I miss show business. Are you kidding me? The only thing I miss is staff. I loved delegating. Now, it seems, I must confront the realization that I am ill-prepared to be the age that I am. Believe me, coming full frontal into that reality is exhausting.

Then again, I could look on the bright side. I do not have to worry as much about our country’s loss of its three branches of government, or the loss of the rule of law, or dirty bombs in suitcases arriving at a baggage claim area as much, or for anywhere nearly as long as my grandkids do. 

As to what’s up next for this television watcher other than the so-called news? In need of a laugh, I turn to late-night. Highest rating for that goes to Jon Stewart on Monday nights’ The DailyShow via Comedy Central. A true comic genius. There is really no one in second or third place compared with him but next in line are the opening monologues of soon-to-be canceled Steven Colbert, on The Late Show (CBS), then Jimmy Kimmel’s opening bit on ABC, followed by Desi Lydic, a periodic host on The Daily Show, then the other Jimmy … Fallon … and his intro of The Tonight Show on NBC. Also on NBC, Saturday Night Live … but only the cold opening and the parody of the “news” (hint: you can high speed through the show and once the musical “artist” is done, next is a commercial and then the only sure-fire thing on the program, the news segment will appear). And last … and most certainly last … is Bill Maher on HBO MAX. If you can stay awake long enough for his New Rules feature which ends the evening, it almost makes sitting through the rest of the show worth watching… almost. 

That’s all folks … except, inquiring minds might ask, what is the opposite of retrograde and when does it occur for Mercury? 

 

 

Barney Rosenzweig

 

SNIPPITS AND SADNESS

 

Dame Jenni Murray passed away in England this week and, although we were not close, she was someone I liked and admired. I met her about 15 years ago, when Cagney & Lacey superfan Jackie Danson put together a British Film Institute celebration/retrospective of my series.

Dame Jenni was the moderator that evening and did a simply fabulous job. It is on video … somewhere. I know I have a copy in one of the overstocked cabinets in my living room, but I did discover that you can easily see 12 minutes (of a much longer evening) on YouTube using this link: https://youtu.be/_OQz7kHIhlg?si=oc2PS6cgrYRKV1yI 

I took a peek at it myself and… even though I was in my Orson Welles phase in terms of body weight (sixty plus pounds more than today), I put my vanity aside, believing this video excerpt is worthy enough to call to your attention.

It was a great evening in London … sold out … with fans lined around the block hoping for the release of some extra seats… somewhere. And, as I recall, those fans stood in that line in the rain. A great night. Thank you, again, Jackie Danson and… thanks and hail and farewell to Dame Jenni.

Did I ever mention that Cagney & Lacey was more even popular in England than it ever was in the U.S.? Not only did it play repeatedly for decades in the UK, but when the BBC held its 50^th anniversary celebration at a gala which included members of the Royal Family, there were but two star/celebrities from the USA invited: Sharon Gless and Tyne Daly. I was there, backstage, that night when Paul McCartney asked Ms. Gless for her autograph.

Other than that quick search for a link to Dame Jenni’s hosting of the BFI tribute, I have been consumed… working 10 hour days doing the heavy lifting of proofing and double-checking my memoir (Before and After Cagney & Lacey) before giving approval to my publishers at McFarland & Company for release. It all must be done, according to the good folks at my publishing house, by month’s end; I am pressing on to make that deadline.

There is, as a result, not a lot of time for casual motion picture or television viewing but I did see the Oscars and thought Conan, the host, did a good job, and that the producers of the evening did even better. I was pleased that, as a predictor of what might or might not win, I had a pretty good night but found that I am still in disbelief that, of all the contenders for best screenplay, the winner was Sinners. Whatever arguable pluses the movie had, that screenplay was not one of them.

On the few occasions I plopped in front of my home screen, my first inclination was not to be overly venturesome. I went to Netflix to return to Outlander to finally complete season 7 of that series. There was a little too much of the second-generation acting ensemble for my tastes. This is doubly negative as their presence comes at the expense of screen-time featuring the two exceptionally talented and attractive original leads. That said, the show is so well done, such nice attention to detail, that except for that bit of a slip of lazy casting, the show is close to perfection. Season 8 of Outlander, including the show’s finale, is on Starz to which I do not subscribe; so, as much as I am looking forward to the conclusion of the series, I will wait for those final episodes of Outlander to join its preceding seven seasons on Netflix.

I watched one episode of The Gray House on Amazon Prime. You cannot pay me to watch another. Terrible on-the-nose writing, mediocre cast, and pedestrian direction. Not worthy of my time... or, I would suggest, yours.

The Madison is a new series from a writer I have come to admire, Taylor Sheridan ... although I am not at all fond of his The Marshalls. Another matter altogether is The Madison. It has the look that I have come to recognize in all of Sheridan’s shows (Yellowstone and Landman as prime examples) and it has Michelle Pfeiffer, Kurt Russell, and an interesting, attractive, and talented group of supporting players along with Sheridan’s insightful character development, plotting, and dialogue.

I have seen four of the six episodes which are now streaming on Paramount + and… while conceding it took me more minutes than I like to get with it… get with it, I did. I will return for more episodes as time and Paramount + allows.

As to “time” and “allowance” … McFarland Publishing House reminds that I must get back to finishing Before and After Cagney & Lacey before any more TV or movie excursions … or, for that matter, another flurry of words representing more notes from my warm Island.

Soon, like Cyberdyne Systems 101, “I’ll be back.”

 

Barney Rosenzweig

…AND THE WINNER IS…

I have finally gotten around to seeing Sentimental Value, which means I have now seen each of the ten films nominated by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for their Oscar Award as Best film for the year 2025.

First things first. Sentimental Value is a very good movie. It is the film If I Had Legs I’d Kick You would like to have been (but isn’t). Good as it is, however, I do not think it wins the award for Best Picture, which begs the question, what will? Here are some thoughts:

Most disappointing or biggest let down (therefore with little chance of getting the big prize): Bugonia, Frankenstein, and F1.

The ones, in my opinion, with absolutely no chance of winning Best Picture, and which should not have been nominated, are The Secret Agent and Train Dreams.

Long shots, but possible winners, include Marty Supreme, Sentimental Value and Sinners with the latter having the best chance, not based on any review I might have written, but based on the number of nominations overall that this movie received. For me, the best of these three would be Sentimental Value, but that would represent a major upset.

Which leaves my top two picks for best pic: Hamnet and One Battle After Another, two very different types of movies. They are, in my opinion, at the top of the heap, and in a dead heat to cop the main prize.

My vote? Hamnet, which means, if you take into account the often times perverse nature of the Academy voter, one should not rule out Train Dreams as the winner.

Onward to more of my personal picks from the pics:

Best Director:  Cholė Zhao for Hamnet. Runner up: Paul Thomas Anderson, One Battle After Another.

Best Actor: Ethan Hawke, Blue Moon. Runner up: Leonardo DiCaprio, One Battle After Another. Michael B. Jordan, who plays twins in Sinners, this season’s box-office surprise, could take it all.

Best Actress: Jessie Buckley, Hamnet. Runner up: there really isn’t one, but a sentimental choice might be Kate Hudson, Song Sung Blue.

Best Supporting Actor: Benicio del Toro, One Battle After Another. Too easy a choice for runner up: Sean Penn, One Battle After Another. My choice for runner up: Stellan Skarsgard, Sentimental Value.

Best Supporting Actress: Teyana Taylor, One Battle After Another. Runner Up: Either of the gals from Sentimental Value (Elle Fanning or Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas).

Best Adapted Screenplay: One Battle After Another. Runner up: Hamnet.

Best Original Screenplay: Sentimental Value. Runner up: Blue Moon.

Best International Feature Film: Sentimental Value. Runner up: The Secret Agent.

Best Casting: Hamnet. Runner up: The Secret Agent or Sinners.

Having seen only one of the five nominated feature-length documentaries, I would normally refrain from comment. Still, it is all but impossible not to make note of Come See Me in the Good Light, featuring poet Andrea Gibson, a truly lovely and loving film that everyone should see. It is everything that Jon Batiste’s American Symphony wanted to be but sorta wasn’t. See it streaming on Apple TV.

And then, I didn’t write… about the more so-called technical awards such as cinematography, editing, production design, costume design, make up and sound. The nominees are all worthy and this is where Frankenstein, Sinners, Bugonia, Marty Supreme, Avatar, F1 can make up a little ground.

Finally, a disclaimer… maybe two. As stated many times, voting members of The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences are often unpredictable… or rather, maybe too predictable in that they often go for the off-beat movie that surprises many serious cinephiles. Secondly, there is no denying the multitude of nominations garnered by Sinners… nor can one look past that film’s success at the box-office. A speculator on the awards-to-be ignores these facts at his/her peril.

The wait is not long. All will be answered, March 15… ABC or streamed on HULU. Enjoy!

 

Barney Rosenzweig