For whatever reason… and more often than not… I am behind the times; I am rarely (if ever) ahead of the curve. It has more to do, I think, with life in the tropics than it does with the aging process. We could argue the point, but the title of this thing is Notes From A Warm Island, NOT Missives from Assisted Living. I am sticking with “hey, mon, it’s the tropics.
Being slow to come aboard is why my spouse and I are only
now completing season two of Outlander while the series itself is currently
filming its 7th season in Scotland.
I had heard whispers about the show but was unprepared for
what I saw. By “unprepared” I do not refer to the gorgeous photography, the
expansive production values, the great costumes, the authentic sets, or even
one of the more talented acting ensembles, headed by an actress who has Ava
Gardner looks and a leading man who is even prettier.
I have been regularly wowed by the work of the handful of
directors who have lent their skill sets to this unique show, and the writing
is more than worthy of all its artists and artisans. It should be mentioned,
for the prudish if no one else, that this is also one of the most sensuous and
sexually explicit shows you are likely to see on big screen or small.
My surprise… the thing for which I was not prepared… had to
do with the show’s main titles. It seems that when streaming a series at a clip
of several episodes per sitting, the titles at the head of the episodes are
sometimes truncated. Often, one is given the option to skip the titles and/or
the recap altogether. In this case… at least that is my recollection… I was not
offered the choice; Netflix just kept the series going… for as long as I was
willing to sit…back-to-back-to back… for three or four episodes in a row… the
show just kept coming with little, or no recognition of the folks who made the
series.
Then the format changed… somewhere around the fifth episode.
It was, perhaps, day two of watching this series, that for the first time, we
were being presented with the show’s opening signature… in its entirety…
qualitatively right up there with the standard we had come to expect of Outlander.
As they should, these openings with their cross references
from the 18th to the 20th centuries, set the mood of the
show to follow, emphasizing the very fine musical themes that would regularly
be reprised in the episodes… and all the while flashing individual names upon
the screen.
At my age, it is not uncommon for me to find that these
named folk are not known to me. The making of motion pictures and television is
a young person’s business. Irving Thalberg was twenty-eight when he ran MGM
studios, supervising such classics as The Wizard of Oz and the Good
Earth (to name two extremes of his tenure). Orson Welles was in his
twenties when he made Citizen Kane, so was Barbra Streisand when she did
Funny Girl. I, myself, was twenty-something when I debuted as the
producer of Daniel Boone for NBC. Such a list as this could go on… and
on… but it’s a digression from what it is I am eager to relate, which is this:
The name Toni Graphia popped up on the screen. What!? I
reached for the remote control, knocking over my bottle of Boylan Seltzer in
the process. A very fast mop up, then I hit pause and rewound to Ms. Graphia’s
credit as Executive Producer on what has become one of our very favorite series
of this or any year.
Still in pause mode, I reached for my phone asking GOOGLE
for background information/credits for this Graphia person. Sure enough… there
she was… “my” Toni Graphia. The young woman I started in the business forty years
ago as overseer of the fan mail for Cagney & Lacey was now all grown
up and… whaddaya know?… quite a success!
It took me a while to obtain an email address for my
erstwhile employee, but the good news is that tropics and age aside, I still
have some folks I can call about such things. Within days I had a response from
the rain-soaked Scottish location where Ms. Graphia is working on the final season
of her brilliant series.
Modesty prevents me from sharing the wonderful things Toni
Graphia emailed about her early experiences in the business while working on Cagney
& Lacey. The only way it could have been better is if our one-time C&L
mentee had her “prop” department supply her with parchment paper and the
leading lady’s 18th century quill with which to write it. That would
be something to hang on the wall of any future assisted living facility.
Thank you, Ms. Graphia. You brought a tear to these old
eyes.
Barney Rosenzweig
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