Category Archives: Entertainment

Poor Junior

(First, I’d hate being called “Junior.”)

Again, I’ve long forgotten how I got there, but last night I ended up at one of my occasional research haunts: TruTV’s Crime Library, where I was reminded of an event I hadn’t thought about in years — even after doing a post on Big Frank last month.

Of course, I’m talking about the bizarre kidnapping of Frank Sinatra, Jr. back in 1963. The Crime Library’s David J. Krajicek did a fine job on the essay; you should read it. But in case you haven’t the time or inclination, here are the more tasty bits that made it truly wacko:

  • Barry Keenan, the “mastermind” (if you can call him that), chose to kidnap Junior over another celeb’s kid, because Big Frank was a wise guy — meaning he was in thick with mobsters — and putting a guy like Frank through a few hours of misery wouldn’t be morally deplorable. Besides, this was about money; Keenan had no plans to hurt the 19-year-old Frankie. In fact, after he got his $240,000 ransom money from Daddy, Keenan was going to invest it, and within 10 years, pay Sinatra back.
  • He and his two idiot accomplices had originally planned the kidnapping for 22 November, but were too depressed to commit the crime after John F. Kennedy was assassinated that morning. (Hey, ya gotta give ’em that.) So they chose 8 December, when Junior was booked at Harrah’s in Lake Tahoe. They entered his hotel room after posing as delivery men, and it was on.
  • Big Frank, frantic with worry and refusing to eat or walk away from the phone until it rang with the ransom demand, quickly offered Keenan $1 million for Frankie’s return. But Keenan said no, $240,000 would be fine. (cricket…..cricket…..)
  • The Mastermind and one of his goons happily went to the agreed-upon spot (between 2 school buses in an LA parking lot) and picked up the suitcase with the 240 grand in it — in full view of FBI cameras.
  • They returned to find Goon #3 — and Junior — gone. He’d gotten nervous, left the house, and let Frankie out on the highway someplace, where he was eventually picked up and taken home. So, like, the kidnapping part was done. Oh well. At least they had their sultan’s fortune in cash.
  • Goon #3, dizzy with delight at getting his cut of the ransom ($40G), had plans to go to New Orleans and live the high life. One problem: he stopped at his brother’s house in San Diego to stay the night, and told him all about it. Bro called the law and the jig was up. He sang like a nightingale, and within hours, everybody got arrested.

But the story gets better after that…

Enter the bumblers’ defense attorney, Gladys Towles Root, who has a great story herself. A Hollywood lawyer who often took on sex offender cases (and won), she came up with an interesting defense for the would-be criminals. It didn’t work.

Happy ending for Keenan, though: he’s now the millionaire he always wanted to be, thanks to a lucrative real estate business. He was sentenced to life in prison plus 75 years. He was out in four. No lie.

But Junior… poor Junior. Can you imagine trying to make a name for yourself in shadow of your larger-than-the-universe father, singing the same kind of music he did? Kid didn’t have a prayer — not back then, when his dad was the king of all media.

He was a good-looking young man, though, and he and his sister Nancy were pretty visible in the early-mid 60s, mostly on TV specials with Big Frank. Nancy also had two or three top 40 hits. My all-time favorite is this one, that she recorded with her dad. It’s such a pretty song, and beautifully simple…it brings back fantastic memories. Music does that to me.

Anyway, Junior had to live down years of speculation that he himself set up the kidnapping in order to jumpstart his own career. He never had a fraction of the success his dad enjoyed. He does the casino circuit now (ALTHOUGH I’M SURE HE HAS MANY OTHER GREAT THINGS IN THE WORKS, LIKE A SHAKESPEARE FESTIVAL, OR OCEAN’S 19, OR MAYBE AN EVEN NEWER BROADWAY VERSION OF THE JERRY SPRINGER SHOW), still singing big band and crooner tunes, just like Pop. Here he is today.

In a way, though, Junior had the last word on the whole kidnapping thing. In 1998, when they made a movie of the story, Keenan stood to make $1.5M from it as a consultant. Sinatra sued, invoking protection under the Son of Sam law, and won.

Heh.

Happy Sunday. Back to work.

Photo credit: Associated Press; Phil Konstantin 2005

This made me laugh

Happy 2-hour delay, fiends. I’m beginning to hate them, however. It’s like having your mother-in-law come stay for the weekend. It’s nice the first few times, but by the twentieth, well…

So I was going to do a post I’d promised to do awhile ago on women who were “still fabulous after 40,” in answer to the one I did about men back in November. I got sidetracked.

In my searches, I found a hilarious condition identified as Madamism. You remember Madame, the sassy, snarky puppet operated by Wayland Flowers back in the 70s and 80s? I thought the whole act was hilarious.

Anyway, it seems that some Hollyweird actresses have had so much plastic surgery that their faces, over time, begin to resemble our lovely Madame.

Case in point from Dr. Tony Youn’s celebrity plastic surgery site:

All right, now you have to admit it: it’s funny. Maybe I won’t think it’s so funny ten years from now, but for today, ha-ha.

Madame Fink out.

Image credits: americanidle.net, cityrag.com

Cool TV V

However, the stomach flu is definitely *not* cool. Ugh. It’s been a long night. But hey, the show must go on.

Last night, before the nausea and other horrible things slammed me to the mat, I made a wonderful discovery: hulu.com has classic TV shows, in their entirety. How cool is that?

From 1967. I watched it faithfully.

I found every episode of The Time Tunnel, a series I watched faithfully when I was in the third grade or so (alas, the show only lasted one season).

Its premise centered around two scientists who run a government-funded laboratory beneath the Arizona desert, dedicated to the exploration of time travel. In the first episode, a senator comes to check on the facility to decide whether or not to pull its funding, because the scientists and military personnel stationed at the huge, futuristic lab have only sent animals into the tunnel — never to see them again.

Seven billion dollars in the hole, and in danger of being shut down, one of the scientists (Dr. Tony Newman, played by dreamy James Darren) decides to send himself through the tunnel to prove it can work on humans, and thereby save the project.

Then it all goes wrong.

Turns out, Tony is sent back in time all right, and he even arrives safely on the deck of a cruise ship. Only problem: the ship’s name is Titanic, and it’s the 14th of April, 1912. So the other scientist, for some inexplicable reason, gets dressed up in period clothing and tries to go after him to save him. Now they’re both trapped and can’t get back.

I thought it was tremendously cool back then, though. I loved all of Irwin Allen’s shows (Lost in Space, Land of the Giants, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea). They scared me, but had cute boys.

Anyway, check out these stills I pulled from the first episode:

Awesome set.

Poor guys wore the same costume in every episode.

Ever wonder where Robert Duvall got his start?

OK, back to the sofa with me. But there’s one good thing — I thought today was Saturday. I have more weekend left to get over this thing before school starts Monday.

Fink out.

Stills credit: 20th Century Fox Corp.

ABOFAL

You may already know this, but before Hugh Laurie rocketed to superstardom in House on American television, he was half of a comedy duo over in England. Silly stuff.

He also plays a decent piano and guitar. Good singer, too.

Here’s a great video from A Bit of Fry & Laurie (lovingly referred to by the British public as ABOFAL), on the subject of the importance of the English language. I know some people don’t appreciate British humor, but I think it’s hilarious:

(Digression #1) This is hysterical. Michael (RtB poster and drummer friend in Florida) found a picture from what I think was our freshman year, judging from my memory of the dress. This would have been, what…1974-75? Check out my pointless shawl (but I did love it so) and Michael’s towhead blond hair (which, through the miracle of the peroxide weave, I now have myself). Thanks for sending that, Michael! Oh yeah, almost forgot — here it is.

(Digression #2) Last night, the Thriller and I had dinner while watching the news. In an interview, the “plus size” model who won on the reality show America’s Next Top Model said that she’s happy being larger. Larger. She wears a size 10.

Size 10 is now “plus size.” I’m going to shoot myself now.

Wait, check that. I’m actually going to meet my pal Bando for breakfast at Panera. Yay – I haven’t seen her in a long time.

Happy Tuesday. And oh yeah, happy anniversary to the Fink and the Thriller. :-)

Sad and Sadder

Sad: 1940s and 50s movie star Van Johnson died this month at 92 years old.

Some sundry information:

— He and I share the same birthday.

— The first movie of his I saw was Brigadoon, with Gene Kelly. I was in elementary school, and I saw it on TV one weekend. I was entranced. (Of course, now I’m not so entranced. “Once in the highlands, the highlands of Scotland…” Arf.) He always had that good-natured, boy-next-door, a guy’s-best-friend look. I loved it.

— There’s a great photo feature on him at fanpix.net.

— His biggest career mistake: turning down the role of Elliott Ness in the new 1959 TV series, The Untouchables. The role went to Robert Stack instead, and was an instant hit, while Johnson’s career waned in the 60s, and never really recovered.

Sadder: The story of his wife, Evie Wynn Johnson. Wow.

I read her 2004 obit in the London Independent. So little of it was happy, I had trouble getting through it. Here are the main bits:

She married Johnson in Juarez, Mexico, on the very day her divorce from actor (and best friend of Johnson) Keenan Wynn was final.

According to the Independent, Evie was an old woman when she finally broke her silence:

In 1999, when Evie was bitter and near poverty, she finally stated that MGM had persuaded her to marry Johnson, one of their top stars of the Forties. “They needed their ‘big star’ to be married to quell rumours about his sexual preferences,” she said, “and unfortunately, I was ‘It’ – the only woman he would marry.”

The story continues:

Although rumours quickly circulated that the MGM chief Louis B. Mayer had ordered the union [in an effort] to cover up potential scandal, the truth is cloudy. The writer Arthur Laurents states in his memoirs, ‘A sunny male star caught performing in public urinals once too often was ordered by his studio to get married. His best friends, a young comedian and his wife, divorced so that he could marry the wife.’

According to Evie, ‘For my money, Mayer was the worst of the lot, a dictator with the ethics and morals of a cockroach. Mayer decided that unless I married Van Johnson, he wouldn’t renew Keenan’s contract. I was young and stupid enough to let Mayer manipulate me. I divorced Keenan, married Johnson, and thus became another of L.B.’s little victims.’

Man. If all that’s true…talk about sacrificing for your friends. Wynn’s and Evie’s son, actor and producer/director Ned Wynn, wrote a book about the whole torrid situation. I bought it off half.com, and will happily loan it out when I’m done. Say da woid.

Are you having a nice morning? I’m still on vacation. Well, except for the studying/choreographing part. There’s that.

Ugh.

Fink out.