Owlwise

In this perceptive episode, a door-to-door potato=peeler salesman turns out to be Jim's old college roommate, the one that everyone expected to become a great doctor. Through a series of initial mishaps, he manages to conceal his true status from Jim & Margaret at first, desperate to get away from them because he's ashamed of his failure to succeed. But when Margaret insists that he & his wife come to dinner, and his wife insists on going, just to spend a few precious hours of happiness with old friends, the truth inevitably comes out.

As might be expected, Jim & Margaret are compassionate, not mocking. And as it turns out, they'd already figured out that their old friend Henry wasn't a doctor, but a door-to-door salesmen. They were just going along with him to spare his pride & self-esteem. Yet Jim's glad for the truth to come out, as he continues to show his honest admiration & respect for his old friend, and to give him some much-needed encouragement to face himself at last.

For any older viewer, looking back on college days & dreams of great success that never happened, this can't help but be a poignant episode. After all, just about all of us have dreams that never came true for us. It's what we do after those dreams fail that matters, as Jim points out to Henry. Jim himself hoped to become a stage actor, only to flop in his first minor supporting role. Yet he found his niche & is happy with his life.

My only reservation about the episode? It really needs more than half an hour to explore its story more fully. But that was the format for the show, so they had to make it fit into a somewhat restrained framework. Even so, it's one that should strike a chord with most older viewers.

Beatlemania was addressed by several sitcoms in the early 1960s. quite often with Chad & Jeremy standing in for the Fabs. This is one of the best such episodes, with Chad & Jeremy offering a very good facsimile of the Beatles' wit & charm as seen in period interviews.

What's especially likable about the episode is that they don't make fun of the musicians themselves, but draw a lot of comedy from the mania around them. And for younger viewers who might think that the sheer hysteria of the teenaged girls depicted is an exaggeration, I can assure them as someone who was a boy then, it is NOT exaggerated in the least.

It's also fun to see Rob & Laura worried about fans storming their home if it's discovered that the Redcoats are staying there ... but also just dying to tell their big secret to someone, anyone! A period piece that really doesn't seem dated because it gets everything right, capturing that moment perfectly.

I was willing to give this a chance, but it's clearly just a direct steal from the unjustly cancelled Kevin (Probably) Saves The World, which covered the same ground with far more wit & charm, as well as a little darkness beneath the backstory of Kevin himself. God Friended Me uses the same basic format of the main character being directed to help different people each episode, but it lacks the far better cast of Kevin & actually makes past treacle like Touched By An Angel look deep. Avoid!

As a major fan of the Murphy Brown, I had mixed feelings about its revival today. But if any older TV series was suited to the current times, this is it. And for the most part, it's just as scathing as before ... but not quite settled into its new surroundings yet. The basics are there, the writing is sharp; they just need to tighten & fine-tune the characters & storylines. As much as I loathe Trump, that's not enough to sustain the show for long. I welcome the political humor overall - they always did that well - but look at other entertainment & cultural trends of the day, as well as more personal stories, would add a lot to it.

As for all of the 1 start reviews for the revival ... I notice that quite a few, ostensibly written by different posters, tend to be identical, word-for-word posts. Which means that the revival has struck a nerve. Which means that it's doing something right. I just hope the series will remember that it needs more than outrage (even when I share that outrage). It still has the potential to be just as smart & funny as it ever was!

Anyone coming to this 1980 adaptation of "The Martian Chronicles" for the first time will undoubtedly be put off immediately by the special effects, which were so-so even then, and the slower, more cerebral pace of the narrative. And that would be a shame, because the heart & soul of Bradbury's book is alive & well here, and still both thought-provoking & emotionally satisfying.

Of course, it was never hard science to begin with, so complaining about the unscientific depiction of Mars & the behavior of the Earthmen is utterly beside the point. This is as much fable, parable, allegory as it is anything else: a study of the human propensity to opt for the crass over the sublime, the material over the spiritual, ugliness & power over beauty & harmony. It is, in fact, a sometimes scathing, sometimes sorrowful exploration of the human condition, and particularly human weakness.

And yet, both in the idealized Martians, and in the few humans who respond to the wonder of the Martian landscape & philosophy, we're shown what we could be, if only we could transcend our own pettiness, greed, and driving fears. This is shown to especially good effect in the slow growth of Colonel Wilder (a quietly effective Rock Hudson), whose initial misgivings about what Earth will do to Mars leads to his own eventual transformation. And in the final two stories - "Night Meeting" & "The Million-Year Picnic" - this is depicted in scenes that have stayed with me for close to 4 decades now, for their sheer beauty & wisdom.

Again, not everyone will be able or willing to make the leap & overlook the flawed surface of this mini-series. But if they can, then they'll experience science-fiction at its best: not CGI explosions & battles & endless action, but the interplay of ideas & emotions, inviting the viewers to look at their own lives, and to think about what they really want from the gift of existing, however briefly, in this miracle of the Universe.

Here's another of those blink-and-you-missed-it gems lost among the tide of ridiculous, cotton candy TV shows that were insulting to both adults & children alike in the mid-1960s. Rod Serling crafted something rich & meaningful in his series about a former Union officer in search of himself - and maybe America too - in the wake of the Civil War. While it clearly addressed the divisions widening in 1960s America, it's just as applicable today, when those divisions have not only reappeared but widened all the more.

But let's make one thing clear: like everything Rod Serling did, this is solid entertainment that stirs the heart as much as it engages the mind. A wonderful example of the humanist tradition in early TV its concerns are[t just social, they're very much personal. How does a man who has seen the horrors of war, participated in them himself, begin to find peace, understanding, and a place for himself in the world? For that matter, how does anyone who has lived through turmoil, hatred, death, whether in the military or not? What is a life really all about?

Wisely, "The Loner" offered no pat answers. If it offered any at all, it was that the seeking was what mattered, the continual struggle to confront both outer & inner darkness & despair, to strive for some sort of meaning in an uncertain, unmoored world.

In Lloyd Bridges, the series found its perfect lead. Capable of showing both stoic strength & revealing fears & doubts as well, he embodied a basically good & decent man with both strength & sensitivity - a man of character & soul. And he wasn't afraid to show the weaknesses that beset all men, but are seldom revealed by many, to their own further wounding. And all the while, he's searching & learning ...

Finally released on DVD, this sadly short-lived series is a treasure waiting to be discovered by anyone who loves quality TV.

This fairly low-budgeted PBS film from 1980 shows why a real story, with real ideas, runs rings around the multi-million dollar CGI-fests that overrun theaters today. A sensitive, thoughtful adaptation of the Ursula LeGuin classic about dreams, power, responsibility, Taoism, reality, unreality, and being in & at one with the world, it's blessed with three strong & subtle performances. Bruce Davison, still one of our most underrated actors, is especially fine in conveying the uncertainties & initial confusion of George Orr, as well as his basic human decency & his emerging moral strength as the world continues to shift around him.

Yes, the special effects are simple even for 1980 ... but that doesn't matter in the least. The film knows that real science-fiction isn't about special effects; it's about people & ideas. A thoroughly entertaining, gripping story, it brings those ideas to life without lecturing, but by letting the characters live them out & react as real human beings. It's a film I've watched many times over the decades since it first aired, and it remains as fresh & vivid as ever, always revealing something new. How many films can do that? This one does, effortlessly. It needs to be available on DVD again!

This fine documentary, somewhat fittingly rough & unpolished, but heartfelt, deals with the 4 months that Father Daniel Berrigan was underground from the FBI. He had participated in & led the burning of draft records in an act of civil disobedience, was tried & found guilty, and then saw no good reason to cooperate with The Powers That Be, who had convicted him for choosing to (in his own words) "burn paper instead of children."

The furtive interview footage is from various homes that sheltered Father Berrigan during those months, allowing him to state his very devout reasons for resisting an immoral, illegal war as best he could. At one point he appears at a Sunday service, preaching a powerful sermon, and then returning underground - delightful!

You can only find this footage online at present, and that's a shame. It should be preserved on DVD, along with other such video documents of a time when decent Americans opposed the insanity of war, injustice, needless death in the name of power. We need more people like Father Berrigan today.

This film is a marvel of purity & simplicity: two young nuns in Chicago, 1968, are invited by two young documentary filmmakers to ask strangers on the street, "Are you happy?" The nuns are open, sincere & utterly without affectations of any kind ... and this undoubtedly helps those interviewed to respond with candor & considered thought. The unpretentious honesty of the situation leads to guileless honesty on the part of those interviewed.

Part of the film's appeal is its time capsule quality. This goes beyond the fashions & styles of 1968, I think, to the overall tone of the people themselves. This is prior to an era of glib irony & snark -- the people from all walks of life are genuinely concerned by the problems of their day, but equally hoping for some sort of unity & understanding among all of them. Some today might call this naiveté ... but to me, it's simply an expression of basic human decency, a deep longing for greater communion with one another.

Interestingly, we don't hear anyone say that they'd be happier if they were rich. The real discussion of money is the knowledge that some are immensely rich, while others live in poverty -- the issue is disparity, not personal gain. Even more interestingly, many of those interviewed explain why they're happy by speaking of a sense of self-knowledge, of being true to themselves. Such were the priorities of so many people at that time, something we could use more of today.

If you see this on DVD, there's more than just the original film, including a follow-up interview with the two (now former) nuns in 2009, talking about the film & their lives since then; and a similar short film made by high school students who had seen the film in 2009. This cellphone-made documentary is lovely, because the people interviewed are very different from the shallow media stereotypes of young people today -- they're just as thoughtful & considered as their predecessors from 1968. This is heartening!

I'll be watching this film again, probably many times in the years to come. It would be perfect for sharing with a group of friends, as it would certainly lead to fascinating discussions. An unexpected treasure in every way!

As a small boy, I loved ROUTE 66; as a teenager, it was THEN CAME BRONSON; as a young man, it was MOVIN' ON. And while there were other series about wanderers on the road, often pursued by others (THE FUGITIVE, THE IMMORTAL, KUNG FU, and later even THE INCREDIBLE HULK), what appealed to me most was a story about people who wanted to be on the road, meeting others, experiencing live & the breadth of human situations.

Things had changed by the mid-1970s, of course; but trucking still provided a vehicle (ahem) for such human stories. Gifted with two fine actors in Claude Akins & Frank Converse, it presented the panorama of life as it was then, with all of the drama & humor & unexpectedness of simply being alive. No need for aliens, the supernatural, spies, conspiracies, etc. -- all of those fine & enjoyable in their own right, to be sure! -- just stories about people with needs, dreams, fears, meeting one another, their lives intersecting for a brief time.

And these were "ordinary" people ... and by that I mean real people that you or I would have met, not the supermodels with extravagant lifestyles who seem to populate so many TV shows today. They looked & sounded & acted REAL, with real lives that we could identify with ourselves. I really miss that sort of show; and I'm delighted that MOVIN' ON is finally available on DVD at last. Now to relive those times once more!

This version of the classic tale has become a holiday favorite in our house. While it's a musical, it's not at all slick & over-produced; instead, it has a rough-hewn charm & simplicity to it that's far more engaging than a professional polish so bright that nothing sticks. Yes, the actors aren't "real" singers by any means ... but I like them all the more for that, as Hans & Annie sound like actual young people on the verge of first love, their voices straining & creaking just a bit with all the emotions inside them. And the adult actors are very good, from Richard Basehart's gruff but compassionate doctor, to Cyril Ritchard's wonderfully eccentric innkeeper, to Eleanor Parker's beautiful & strong Mrs. Brinker, worn by sorrow but still filled with love & hope for her family. Add to that the pleasure of songs like "Proper Manners" and you can't go wrong!

English films of the late 1960s/early 1970s had a particular look to them, a certain lighting & tone, that sets them apart. Whether it's the film stock, the lighting, the age of the source material, everything has a sort of burnished glow to it. There's an artificial atmosphere in the best sense of the word, the beauty of an unreal Victorian confection. It's the same with the stage sets, intercut with location footage: it has an almost fairytale quality at times. There's a certain simple magic here, completely devoid of cynicism, that never melts down into mere mawkish mush. And that's no small feat!

Like so many of the previous reviewers, I find this episode to be among the best of any in the entire Trek franchise ... and more, simply one of the best episodes of any TV show, any genre, over time. And I'm frankly bewildered by the couple of negative reviewers who seem unable to empathize with the quiet power & beauty of this deeply moving father-son story.

If you're reading these reviews, you already know the basic plot: young Jake Sisko loses his father in a bizarre accident that strands Benjamin Sisko in a timeless limbo, from which he emerges for a brief moment every so often over Jake's lifetime. The plot mechanics of this are unimportant -- what matters is the human story of a son losing his father, yearning for his presence, never quite whole because of that loss, and struggling to cope with it & set it right.

I just watched it again last night, which makes it at least a dozen times since it first aired. My father was alive then; he died a few years later. So the wrenching emotional punch of this story has only grown over time for me ... and, I suspect, for the vast majority of those who have also watched it. Were there tears streaming down my face by the end, this time around? Oh, yes. Anyone who loved & lost their father understands.

Next Generation justly takes pride in "The Inner Light" -- but "The Visitor" is easily its equal, and in many ways even more meaningful & rich. I'll definitely be watching it many more times to come in the future.

I have to disagree with the previous reviewers, who don't seem to be seeing this short film in the spirit intended. Maybe you had to be of a certain age, in a certain time, for its appeal to become apparent. It's a wordless journey of a young man, obviously idealistic, artistic, yearning -- as so many were in 1969 -- as he travels through Holland, envisioning the same mysterious young woman in various settings, evoking various eras, capture din his sketches & inner eye, but not on camera. Clearly she's his own idealized Eternal Feminine, what Jungians would call the Anima- his own soul, his dream of beauty & meaning -- projected onto the landscape. And perhaps she's also the embodiment of the land, at least as he experiences it. A lovely, Romantic, dreamlike film that couldn't be made in these more literal, imaginatively poor times today.

"Father Knows Best" is often dismissed as nothing but typical 1950s conformist fare -- but in more than one episode, the series actually questioned the then-current status quo in small but telling ways.

In this episode, college girl Betty is happy to follow the social rules for acceptance by the college's "In Crowd" that dictates who's acceptable & who's not. And as more than one character exclaims in horror, anyone who flouts those rules "might as well be dead!" Betty's complacency is challenged by Mr. Beekman, a fellow student who also teaches some high school classes for Betty's brother Bud. He encourages asking "Why?" of anyone or anything that demands unquestioning obedience. This doesn't sit well with Betty, whose own conscience is fighting her complacency. And then -- but watch the episode.

All in all, for what's considered a lightweight 1950s sitcom, this is reasonably thoughtful stuff. I'd imagine that more than one viewer might have been inspired to read Emerson, whose essay "Self-Reliance" is mentioned & quoted more than once, after watching this half-hour episode.

This is a fascinating episode, a real time capsule, in capturing the mainstream attitudes of Kennedy-era America. When Rob & Laura are invited to a party of pretentious writers & upper-class hangers-on, he's reluctant to go. It's only because the party is for noted poet Henry Walden (obviously modeled after Robert Frost) that he agrees to go at all.

What's interesting is that Rob & Laura were the representative Kennedy-era couple -- young, attractive, sexy, and open to modern ideas & the avant-garde ... up to a point. The show always defaulted to the safety mainstream in the end, not wanting to alienate its core audience, and never more so than in this episode.

First, I'm sure the all-too-fey poet portrayed by Dick van Dykes's stand-in Frank Adamo, pushing his new book of poetry entitled "Lavender Lollipops" -- excuse me, pronounced "Lavender Lollipopths" no less -- is embarrassing for the cast & creators to look back on now. The show was quite bold in presenting black characters as real human beings; but gay people hadn't reached that point on television yet.

But also interesting is that the episode is so determined to show up the pretensions of the so-called snobs -- they're definitely a bit full of themselves, but clearly decent enough & well-meaning people -- that it's Rob who comes off as the snob, strident & mocking & almost bitter. He's quite defensive about it! It remains a funny episode, both as originally intended & in revealing new ways in retrospect.

1950s TV was notable for drama that explored existentialism, alienation, and the search for personal meaning -- Rod Serling's work, for instance, both in individual dramatic TV films & of course of "The Twilight Zone", is filled with it.

But to find it on "Father Knows Best"? Yet here it is, with Betty not sure if she exists as a real person, questioning whether life makes any sense, asking why generation after generation of people do the same things over & over again, seemingly to no purpose. I could easily see this as a Twilight Zone episode with just a bit of fine-tuning, in fact.

Certainly Betty is overly dramatic & wrapped up in herself. That's an accurate portrayal of being 17 & smart enough to wonder about things. And the questions she asks have been asked by millions, and not just in their teens, either. A really thoughtful episode that has some real punch.

For me, this remains one of the funniest episodes of the series, especially during Archie's interactions with the various demonstrators. I don't want to give away some of the most hilarious lines, but the dialog following Archie's use of an inhaler for allergies still cracks me up after having seen it dozens of times over the decades. The scene also is an interesting time capsule, in that it gives a pretty thorough overview of the various types of demonstrators at the time, exactly as I remember them: the blissed-out hippie, the political activist, the Jesus freak, the Black pride advocate, the mellow Black dude, the radical, etc. -- it was a mixed bag back then!

This warm, quiet episode of "Then Came Bronson" could easily have been expanded into a full-length film ... but it would have been a charming slice-of-life film, not an intense drama. And that's precisely why I like it so much.

Jim Bronson stops to help out Isidore Katz, a retired Jewish widower from New York, who's bought a van & is seeing the country in much the same way that Jim is. Before long, Jim's motorcycle runs into mechanical trouble, and Isidore is able to return the favor. Since the necessary part will take a couple of days to come in to the garage, the two men spend that time together, with Jim as Isidore's guest.

That's it. That's the plot, such as it is. And what follows is simply a contemplative, almost lazy story about two men of different generations, but with kindred spirits, getting to know one another & enjoying the beautiful country around them. They talk about dancing, about astronomy, about family, about the end of the Universe. They encounter an interesting mix of people along the way. And then they part with a real bond between them, leaving the viewer glad for the experience.

Today, of course, this story would never make it onto the screen. No action, no stunts, no screaming & yelling?!? But the premise of the series was to explore & experience life, to meet it on its own terms, with an open & humble heart. This episode fulfills that premise superbly. I'm just sorry we didn't get a second season of episodes like it.

This has always been a favorite episode of mine for its simplicity & contemplative quality. Bronson has a friendly conversation with a gas station attendant in the rain, who advises him to get away into the hills & forest to find a little tranquility & clearness of mind. Bronson does so, but accidentally finds himself lost in the forest as a storm approaches.

That's the basic plot. What I love about it is that nothing much happens -- not in the way it would today, where constant action & intensity is the driving factor in storytelling. From the initial conversation, where two strangers met & immediately click, talking on more than a superficial level, we know this is going to be something different.

And once Bronson is in the wilderness, it gets even better. There are plenty of long, quiet shots that enable the viewer to feel Nature as it gradually enfolds Bronson. Even in a moment of despair, when he clearly fears he may not make it out alive, he's transfixed by a deer appearing before him. The only lines of dialog in these scenes are voice-overs, lines of poetry, as Bronson takes in the beauty & mystery of the forest & its life.

I won't give away the resolution. Suffice it to say that Bronson has an experience, rather than an adventure -- and to the viewer, it's also an invitation to pause, immerse yourself in the natural world, and reflect for awhile on things that matter more than the trivia of everyday life. Just a beautiful episode, something that couldn't possibly appear on TV today.

Some 22+ years later, "Mindwalk" remains a fascinating & provocative film, one that seems to change as I do, always revealing something new whenever I watch it again. Yet for some, it's one of the most awful things ever put to celluloid. Why such virulently different opinions? I won't insult those who didn't like it by saying they just don't get it, or that they're not intelligent enough to understand it. Clearly its point of view and/or presentation simply don't resonate with them. In fact, the sheer outrage of some (not all) negative responses makes the film sound like a deeply personal affront to those viewers.

I'd suggest that any film capable of evoking such strong responses, either negative or positive, is worth consideration. If nothing else, it asks viewers to stop & reconsider their view of the world, of life, and of themselves -- something that not everyone is always so eager to do, let's be honest.

My own response? To me, this film is one version of my ideal getaway from the mundane world: a place where one can pause, reflect, converse, struggle to come to grips with the Big Questions. The timeless setting of Mont Saint-Michel alone adds to that ambiance, with its sense of being on the edge of eternity while walking beside the sea, with that majestic monument to the soul looming overhead. That alone is a magical, liminal place for me, one that always takes me outside of the everyday.

Then, too, there's the classic form of the philosophical dialog. The three characters are more archetypal & allegorical than traditional movie characters: The Scientist, the Politician, the Poet. They're not supposed to have complicated back-stories, although enough is given by the script & even more by the actors to create the sense of individual lives; these are people as well as philosophical positions as they walk & talk.

And what talk it is! For some, this is the antithesis of what a movie should be ... and certainly it's not your typical entertainment. But I was immensely entertained & enthralled by it. You don't necessarily have to agree with every single point to enjoy it, either; one of the film's great pleasures for me is how it makes me want to join in the conversation, because that conversation constantly sparks new thoughts & possibilities. As I change & grow over the years, the film does as well, in that it always pokes & prods & encourages me to stop & think about things I've taken for granted. As Andre points out to Wally in "My Dinner With Andre", it's important not to fall into a robotic way of thinking & living, even though our culture encourages exactly that. For me, revisiting this film always does shake me out of that automatic pilot through life. Because even when you're aware of it, and striving to live a more meaningful life, it's all too easy to let the robot take over without even realizing you've let that happen.

As for the concept of a new vision of life? That remains vitally relevant, as do so many of the ideas explored in the film. Yes, it has a specific viewpoint & agenda -- what film doesn't, in the end? But it's always pleased me that the final scenes really belong to the Poet, and that it's his voice uttering the last words we hear over the wonderfully hypnotic score by Philip Glass.

Not for every taste, to be sure! But for me, a film that can draw me back time & time again. How I would love to see a sequel, following up on the characters decades later, seeing how their views have changed & grown in the intervening years! Meanwhile, let's hope for that overdue DVD release, preferably with plenty of extras -- Criterion, how about it?

Here's the sort of small, thoughtful film that's disappeared between the mass market cracks. Unlikely to ever be released on DVD at this point, it's probably doomed to fade as the few remaining VHS copies of it disintegrate with time. And that's a shame, because it's actually one of the better films about the 1960s, one that deserves to be remembered.

It's a simple enough story: Kent, a typical young man of that time, sets out on the road, confused by the turmoil of his world, as well as by his own inner turmoil. He's looking for answers, for something that makes sense, and doesn't know where or how to find it. He needs to mature, and he knows it, but he still lacks the self-knowledge & direction to truly commit himself to something. So in that regard, it's not just a 1960s film, but one for any time.

Many films about the 1960s, even good ones, have a tendency to overdo things. Films from that time were usually made by outsiders looking in -- and however sympathetic & well-intentioned, they were still outsiders. More recent films too often depend on the same handful of superficial media clichés & basic 20-song soundtrack, laying on the grooviness with a trowel, striving for the look but completely missing the substance.

"Changes" is something different. The countercultural elements are both sparse & realistic, fully integrated into the story. The hippie friend comes across as a real person, not someone playacting -- or overacting. And the flashbacks with Kent's father (Jack Albertson) are convincingly individual, informed by the generation gap but not having to embody its immense burden. These are people first, living in their times, not awkward symbols masquerading as human beings.

Kent's temporary relationship with a slightly older, more worldly-wise young woman brings his life into focus. Again, this is treated as a love story between individuals, touched by the counterculture of the time, but not fully involved in it. This was the case for millions of young men & women then -- not everyone wore tie-dyed clothes & painted his or her face while grappling with some very big, very difficult questions. Sadly, the fashions are remembered (and all too easily ridiculed), while the questions are neglected & forgotten.

If there's anything that might keep this film alive, it's the soundtrack by Tim Buckley. As listeners not even born until long after Buckley's untimely death discover his work, there may be a new audience for this sensitive, moving film. Yes, it has some flaws & is far from perfect -- but it's an honest, intelligent, moving effort. At the very least, I intend to transfer it from VHS to homemade DVD as soon as possible. At the same time, I still hope for an official DVD release. If those times are to be remembered clearly & truthfully, then works such as this must be preserved. Most highly recommended!

Not a bad review to be found here, which speaks volumes for this excellent film. I've always been struck by what a thoughtful story this was, even as it manages to be thoroughly entertaining. Who hasn't wanted to drop out of the everyday routine & look for something more meaningful at some point?

I'd agree that this is more in the vein of "On the Road" or "Route 66" than "Easy Rider." Bronson's quest is one that we can all identify with, I think. And he's a fascinating character, providing a complex model of manhood that doesn't go to the extremes of overly macho or overly sensitive. He's obviously well-read, considerate, genuinely curious, non-violent -- but he's never preachy, he never looks down his nose at others, and he's eager to understand other viewpoints, even if he doesn't always agree with them. At the same time, you can tell he has definite & firm beliefs that he lives by, and that he won't compromise them.

For me, one of the key scenes is his visit with Papa Bear, a father figure & mentor, who has a wonderful little speech about the difficulty of becoming a man -- a whole man. I've always imagined a much older Bronson becoming just that sort of father figure & mentor for another young seeker one day.

So when is this film & the 26 episodes that followed going to come out on DVD? It's not just longtime fans who'd buy it - I'm sure a whole new generation would also find plenty to like & admire in Jim Bronson!

Every so often TV gives us a show of real depth, beauty, intelligence & feeling. And when it does, it seldom lasts very long. "Nothing Sacred" is one of those shows. Each episode had the richness of a small film & could easily have been expanded into one. The series as a whole offered a stunning, insightful look into the nature of faith, the struggle to reconcile suffering & belief, and reminded us of the epiphanies waiting all around us, those moments of grace that illuminate the soul & the world around us. Father Ray's doubts & questions only served to strengthen his chosen calling in the end; in fact, the series as it stands could easily be seen as a mini-series about one man's journey to acceptance of his life's true meaning. But how I would love to have seen several seasons of it! The series dealt with the pressing issues of the day, and didn't insult the viewer with pat, simplistic answers -- if anything, it challenged the viewer to think about those issues, consider all aspects of them, and come to his or her own conclusions. Simply a wonderful show in every way!

The sort of show that simply wouldn't make it to television today, "Then Came Bronson" told quiet, lyrical, sometimes comic, sometimes dramatic stories about a young man traveling through America in search of personal meaning; unlike many attempts at this theme, the show was never heavy-handed, offering intelligent, often quirky character portraits of the people Jim Bronson encountered. The viewers always came away with a rewarding, thought-provoking experience. It's a pity both the pilot film & the individual episodes aren't available on video or DVD. Shows of this caliber may be born of their particular time, but their substance is timeless.