Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 133: "Mandy's Mistake" (1971)

A young woman contemplates her life in Ed Wood's short story, "Mandy's Mistake."

An ambitious, young Edward D. Wood, Jr. arrived in Los Angeles from Poughkeepsie in 1947, hoping to make a name for himself in the motion picture industry. He eventually did just that, but hardly in the way he had anticipated. His fame was largely posthumous and ironic. During his own lifetime, Eddie was either scorned or utterly ignored by the movie business he loved.

By the early 1970s, having moved down from low-budget mainstream films to out-and-out pornography, Ed Wood was moonlighting as the prolific author of adult books and magazine articles. Today, let's look at another of the short stories he wrote during this period. Since it deals with a young woman who moves to Los Angeles, only to regret her decision almost immediately, this story feels very personal.

The story: "Mandy's Mistake." Originally published in Flesh & Fantasy (Pendulum Publishing), vol. 4, no. 4, November/December 1971.

Synopsis: A young woman named Mandy has just arrived in Los Angeles. She was supposed to move into an apartment in the Echo Park neighborhood with her boyfriend, Ned. To her surprise and dismay, however, Ned didn't even bother to pick her up—or even page her—at the airport. After spending a lonely night in a motel, Mandy ventures out to a coffee shop, then decides to seek out the apartment Ned was supposed to have rented for them.

Somewhat cheered by her breakfast, the young woman takes a bus to Echo Park Lake and thinks back to her most recent telephone conversations with Ned. In hindsight, he did seem a bit unenthused the last few times they talked. Once at the lake, Mandy becomes aware of a lascivious old wino who is staring at her. The man tries to strike up a conversation with her, but she is initially hesitant to speak to this "miserable" bum. Eventually, though, she does open up to him and even starts to cry as she explains her situation.

The wino agrees to help Mandy find the Beacon Street apartment she was supposed to share with Ned. Once they get there, the manager of the place tells her that Ned put a $10 deposit down on the place but never contacted him again. Since the apartment is now rented to someone else, the manager gives Mandy the $10 back, along with a slip of paper containing Ned's (possibly fraudulent) address. Mandy realizes she no longer cares about Ned and gives the money to the wino. The old man cheerfully departs with a "sexy" wink.

Excerpt: "This is what fate rewards her with, she thought, a beautiful human being like this to keep her company. Just what she needed. Yeah, like fun. She turned and looked straight into the old man’s eyes—defiantly, accusing, daringly. What right did he have to come and bother her? Men seemed to be all alike—stupid and insensitive, she thought as she continued to stare at the man, who now had developed a little tic under one eye from nervousness."

A map of the action in "Mandy's Mistake."

Reflections: When I think about Edward D. Wood, Jr.'s experiences in Los Angeles, I can't help but think of "Midnight Train to Georgia," a 1973 smash hit by Gladys Knight and The Pips. I doubt Ed Wood kept up with the Top 40, but songs as popular as "Georgia" have a way of seeping into your life whether or not you seek them out.

As you probably remember, the song tells the story of a thwarted dreamer who decides to return home after failing to become a "superstar" in Los Angeles. ("L.A. proved too much for the man," goes the famous opening line, a sentiment Ed knew all too well.) I wonder if Eddie ever thought about taking the midnight train back to Poughkeepsie, bringing his wife Kathy back home with him as a souvenir from his time in Hollywood. She would have gone, I'm certain, just like the lady in the song does.

The title character in "Mandy's Mistake" also considers returning home after her L.A. plans fizzle. She even ponders the possibility that she never actually loved Ned in the first place. She just wanted an excuse to move to the big city, and there he was. The story ends ambiguously, so we never do find out what happened to Ned or what Mandy did with herself. Maybe she decided to tough it out in Los Angeles anyway. Hey, Ed gave it a good 30 years.

I've been treating Mandy as Ed Wood's surrogate in this story, but the author has a lot in common with the wino character as well. The way the bum is described—with his "improbable, cherubic" face and "impish" blue eyes—sounds a lot like Eddie, as do the character's disgraceful teeth. The story even hints that, like Ed Wood, our wino friend has come down a bit in society since his glory days.  He casually tells Mandy that he "used to own a real estate office." Now he's a drunken bum, possibly homeless, hitting on strange women in the park. I think Ed could relate to that. 

Speaking of real estate, another interesting aspect of "Mandy's Mistake" is that it mentions some genuine Los Angeles streets and landmarks. My guess is that Ed Wood was inspired to write this story after going to the actual Echo Park Lake, seeing a young woman on a park bench there, and imagining what her backstory might be. 

A vintage postcard depicting Echo Park Lake in Los Angeles.

Not being an Angelino myself—I haven't even visited in over 25 years—I'm not too terribly familiar with L.A. geography.  It was easy to find Echo Park Lake on Google Maps, and it is indeed near the intersection of Echo Park Ave. and Sunset Blvd., just as Ed Wood claims in this story. I get confused, though, when Eddie describes the journey that Mandy and the wino take to get to the apartment. Here's the passage in question:

Mandy followed, and pretty soon they were walking briskly in the direction of what looked like a shopping center. She noticed it was Sunset Boulevard and Echo Park Drive. "Yes, lady, this is the one and only Sunset Boulevard," he intoned like a tour-guide. "We go this way," he said, leading her down Echo Park Drive a few blocks, then right on Beacon Street and up a steep hill. 

Okay, the street seems to be called Echo Park Avenue, not Echo Park Drive in real life, but I'll let that slide. There are other issues of greater concern. I may be looking at the wrong maps of Los Angeles, but I can't find any Beacon Street. I can find a Beacon Avenue, but it's in the Westlake South neighborhood a few miles away, not Echo Park. Perhaps someone with more knowledge of L.A. streets can clue me in.

Reader Rob Huffman says:

There's a Beacon St. in San Pedro, down the hill from [writer Charles] Bukowsi's last house (purchased in '78), but that also is nowhere near downtown L.A. Just a dumb factoid I thought I'd share. Fascinating enough, in 2017 a "restaurant" called Beacon popped up in Echo Park in 2017.

The Lindbergh Beacon is atop the famous LA City Hall, but in only operated from 1928 until Pearl Harbor; it didn't shine again 'til 2001 (for special occasions). This predates Wood in L.A., but I imagine the light could/can be seen from Echo Park. And just FYI, there's a Beacon Hill Trail in Griffith Park, but that's also a few miles from Echo Park.

Thanks, Rob!

Incidentally, if this story captures your imagination and you want another Ed Wood tale about a young traveler who arrives in a big city and immediately regrets it, try "That Damned Faceless Fog" from Angora Fever. The hero of that story ought to meet up with Mandy. They'd have a lot to talk about.

Podcast Tuesday: "The Bride of Fonzenstein"

Cathy Silvers and Henry Winkler on Happy Days.

After a low-rated second season in 1974-75, Happy Days was very nearly canceled by ABC. If the show were to continue, the network had three demands:  Fonzie (Henry Winkler) would have to move in with the Cunninghams; the series would have to be filmed in front of a live studio audience; and the previously-unseen character of Arnold would have to appear on camera. Producer Garry Marshall happily complied with all three demands, but the third proved tricky. Marshall and his writers didn't know how Arnold would look or talk, and a series of auditions didn't make the solution any clearer. Eventually, Garry called in his old pal, actor-comedian Pat Morita, to play the role in his own inimitable fashion.

In a way, this set an important precedent for Happy Days. From then on, if a character were frequently discussed, he or she would eventually be seen as well. Clarence the cook, Mother Kelp, and even Binky Hodges all appeared on the series after having been mentioned in previous episodes. But perhaps the quintessential example of this phenomenon was Jenny Piccalo, a wild-acting, rumor-spreading girl who attends school with Joanie (Erin Moran). The other characters started discussing Jenny's exploits as early as Season 4, but she wasn't seen on camera until Season 8, when she was played by Cathy Silvers, daughter of comedian Phil Silvers. At the time, the producers explained to the press that Jenny's addition to the show was partly done to compensate for the loss of Ron Howard and Don Most.

About midway through Season 8, Jenny got her own spotlight episode, "Bride and Gloom." The rather far-fetched plot has Jenny accidentally marrying the Fonz and moving into his apartment. Surprisingly, the story takes a rather sad and dramatic turn, very much at odds with Jenny's party girl image. Does this make for a good episode? Find out when we review "Bride and Gloom" on the latest installment of These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast.

Podcast Tuesday: "Please Sponsor Us, Brylcreem!"

Scott Baio and Erin Moran on Happy Days.

As I explained a couple of weeks ago, each installment of These Days Are Ours requires an extensive postproduction phase. Recording the show takes only 30 to 40 minutes. Editing, however, takes several hours, usually spread out over a few days. During that time, I think a great deal about the Happy Days episode we're reviewing. Occasionally, a thought will occur to me that I should have said when we were actually recording.

This week's podcast is a perfect example. We're reviewing Season 8's "Broadway It's Not" in which Joanie (Erin Moran) and Chachi (Scott Baio) appear in the high school musical, a cornball Western called Home on La Grange. Chachi becomes fiercely jealous when Joanie swoons over the show's handsome but arrogant leading man, Granville Clark (guest star Larry Anderson). Granville and Chachi exchange insults before resorting to physical violence. Ultimately, the young Mr. Arcola emerges triumphant, usurps Granville's leading role in the play, and sings a mushy romantic duet with Joanie.

Only during the editing stage did I realize that "Broadway It's Not" is structured exactly like a Popeye cartoon, specifically like the cartoons Popeye was making during the 1950s at Paramount. Most of those 'toons center around the eternal Popeye/Olive/Bluto love triangle. The way Granville roughs up Chachi during rehearsals, throwing him through a fake window and into a real trough of water, is highly Bluto-esque. Meanwhile, the way Joanie's loyalties waver between Granville and Chachi is classic Olive Oyl behavior. And Chachi is written just like Popeye, taking a lot of abuse before he finally snaps. All that's missing is a can of spinach.

 

By the way, my cohost and I differed on the merits of a song called "My Home Sweet Home La Grange." I loved it. My cohost did not. Again, during the editing phase, I realized why I liked the song so well: it's arranged like the musical numbers from many of Mel Brooks' movies. Compare it to "Prisoners of Love" from The Producers, "I'm Tired" from Blazing Saddles, or the title song from Robin Hood: Men in Tights.

What did we think of "Broadway It's Not"? Was it a hit or a miss? Find out by listening to These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast.

Podcast Tuesday: "The Curse of Fonzenstein"

Henry Winkler and Henry Winkler (???) on Happy Days.

I've loved classic horror movies for as long as I can remember. I've since come to appreciate all kinds of horror films, including the gory modern ones, but as a kid, I was all about mad scientists, shambling monsters, and creepy castles. One of the formative experiences of my youth was watching the classic Universal Frankenstein on television. I remember just being blown away by the entire look of that movie; it was like being able to watch one of my own dreams right there on the screen.

Back then, before the dawn of streaming services, the internet, or even video rental stores, it was not always easy to find the B&W Universal classics. You just had to wait for some local TV station to air them. In the meantime, I got my monster fix wherever I could, including cartoons like Hanna Barbera's Drak Pack and Scooby Doo. I also faithfully collected the Remco Mini Monsters action figures. (Boy, I wish I'd held onto them!) We didn't have a weekly horror host, but there were occasional specials featuring Detroit's own Count Scary. One way or another, I got by.

Nowadays, I can (and do) get my horror fix whenever I desire. This week, for instance, I have the special privilege of reviewing the 1981 Happy Days episode "Welcome to My Nightmare," featuring comedian Dick Gautier as the villainous Dr. Ludlow, a kind of Dracula/Frankenstein hybrid who wants to clone Fonzie (Henry Winkler). What is such a character doing on Happy Days in the first place? Well, it's all part of a fever dream Fonzie is having while laid up with the flu. I'm sure this episode was intended for Halloween, but the late start of the 1980-81 TV season made that impossible. So it aired in February instead.

Does "Welcome to My Nightmare" live up to the legacy of the great Universal horror films? You can find out by listening to the latest installment of These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast. 

Ed Wood Wednesdays: The Wood Promo Odyssey, Part 7 by Greg Dziawer

This week's article takes us to jolly old England.

Ed Wood's sex film work of the 1960s and '70s was often featured in the adult magazines of that period. Publications like Unreleased Dynamic Films, Torrid Films, and Fiery Films—among dozens of others—filled their pages with stills from low-budget sex films, accompanied by texts that ranged from reviews to plot summaries to outright ballyhoo. It was a win-win for all involved: inexpensive content for the publishers and promotion for the filmmakers.

Though common in America, such magazines were published around the world. A colleague recently shared with me an issue of Cinema X, published in London. Cinema X, vol. 4, no. 4, from 1971 includes a photo feature about Ed's Take It Out In Trade, meaning that this film must have played across the pond!

Unlike its US counterparts, which typically focused exclusively on low-budget sex films, this issue of Cinema X sandwiches Ed in with articles on the expected sex films but also includes pieces about Alfred Hitchcock, Clint Eastwood, and an interview with Mario Van Peebles. I'm happy to share it with you!

Here's a link to a PDF of the Cinema X article. (WARNING: NSFW)

Special thanks to Spicy Goldman, Esq. for supplying it to me. If you are a fan of vintage sex films, be sure to check out his fantastic site, Capri Show World Center (caprishowworld.com).

Podcast Tuesday: "The Completely Dental Misadventures of Arthur Fonzarelli"

Warren Berlinger and Henry Winkler on Happy Days.

I hate and fear going to the dentist. There, I said it. I'm a rabid anti-dentite. It's definitely one of my phobias. But maybe I shouldn't even call it a phobia. Google says that phobias are "exaggerated or unrealistic." My fear of the dentist is completely based on reality and experience. I've had, let's say, my fair share of work done to my teeth over the years, and it has always been painful, uncomfortable, scary, and nauseating. Dentists -- and their evil minions, hygienists -- are among the few professionals in this world who are allowed to lecture their customers and treat them with total contempt. Apparently, it's not enough for them to merely torture us physically. They have to do it emotionally and psychologically as well.

The dentist office my parents used to take me to as a child was located at 3218 S. Dort Hwy. in Flint, Michigan. It's a Liberty Income Tax location now, but it looks exactly the same from the outside as it did when I was young. I think it even has the same front door. God, just looking at this awful place gives me the heebie jeebies. I can still remember that nauseating, quasi-sweet smell and the corny Norman Rockwell prints hanging on the wall of the waiting room. 

My personal house of horrors from childhood.

Given all this, you might imagine that I would not be eager to review a Happy Days episode about Fonzie (Henry Winkler) going to the dentist. And you'd be right! But we're watching every episode of the sitcom for our podcast, and Season 8's "It Only Hurts When I Smile" is no exception. Despite my discomfort with the subject matter, I was still looking forward to this episode because it features character actor Warren Berlinger in the fifth and last of his memorable Happy Days appearances.

You can find out what my cohost and I thought of "It Only Hurts When I Smile" by listening to the latest installment of These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast. Was I able to overcome my prejudice and enjoy this episode on some level? There's only one way to find out!

Ed Wood Wednesdays: The Ed Wood Summit Podcast #25 by Greg Dziawer

As always, Greg keeps us in the loop regarding Ed Wood.

A few months back, some wonderful anonymous poster digitized and uploaded a copy of an 8mm porn loop from 1973 in a private adult forum. The film in question hailed from The Reel Thing, a short series containing only eight loops, a few among them still unidentified. I immediately recognized that title, The Reel Thing, since it was also used by publisher Bernie Bloom for one of his Calga magazines in 1972.

Could the loops be related to the magazine? We know Ed wrote for the latter. He even reviewed one of his own books there anonymously! But could he have also been involved in the film series of the same name?

Join me for this podcast as I ponder that question.

BONUS MATERIAL: Here are the front and back covers of a Reel Thing loop. Take special note of the disclaimer on the back.

I had to censor the cover picture a little, but you get the idea.

And here's that book review that Ed Wood wrote for the Reel Thing magazine. It's of his two-volume set, A Study in the Motivation of Censorship, Sex & The Movies.

No, really, read this review. It's a goldmine of Wood trivia.

Podcast Tuesday: "Fonzie IS the Law!"

Scott Baio and Henry Winkler on Happy Days.

As Happy Days progressed over its 11 seasons, the nostalgic sitcom's focus shifted more and more to Arthur "Fonzie" Fonzarelli (Henry Winkler), the ace mechanic and ladies' man who lived with the very square Cunningham family. After the ABC series' nominal lead actor, Ron Howard, left the show in 1980, Fonzie completely took over, even being top-billed for the last four seasons. Fonzie's popularity largely rested with young children who looked up to him as an ultra-cool, almost supernatural role model who could do just about anything. As a result, Fonzie's vices were either toned down or eliminated. He drank his milk, ate his vegetables, and obeyed the law. The former bad boy became a goody two shoes.

But Fonzie still had his flaws! Case in point: the season 8 episode "The Sixth Sense," in which the leather-jacketed mechanic wrongly judges Frankie (Steven Ford), a new fry cook at Arnold's, to be untrustworthy after only meeting him once. When Fonzie's money is apparently stolen, he naturally accuses Frankie of the crime and tells the fry cook to leave town. Which Frankie does. Only later does Fonzie learn that the cook was innocent and that Joanie (Erin Moran) and Chachi (Scott Baio) had actually taken Fonzie's money... for wholesome, understandable reasons. Naturally, Fonzie feels terribly about this. Did his vaunted "sixth sense" let him down this time?

What surprises and galls me about the episode is that Fonzie's original suspicions are ultimately proven correct. Frankie didn't steal Fonzie's money, true, but he did swipe some other money from Arnold's, so Fonzie was right to threaten him and chase him out of Milwaukee. And the show treats this as a happy ending! To me, this is a terrible moral. Judging people on first impressions with no evidence is the very soul of prejudice, and it's horribly irresponsible to have Fonzie -- a hero to kids, let's not forget -- modeling such reckless behavior. Fonzie is only "saved" at the end through sheer coincidence and luck.

But does this mean that "The Sixth Sense" is a bad episode? You can find out by listening to the latest installment of These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast.