Written by by Douglas Brode
Published by Bear Manor Media
A few years back, I strongly considered writing a book on cult TV shows. I defined the term “cult” as referring to long-gone series that have developed a better reputation since their original cancellation than they had while they were on the air in the first place. Obviously, this would include Star Trek, but I was thinking more in terms of obscure shows like He & She, Ellery Queen, or The Green Hornet.
All three of those series, and a number of other logical and worthy shows, are represented in Bear Manor’s new book, Cult Television: 101 Forgotten Shows to Remember from author Douglas Brode. My problem with the book is that he gives equal coverage to shows like The Camel News Caravan (1949-1956), Dagmar’s Canteen (1951-1952), For the People (1965), Funny Face (1971), and Wizards and Warriors (1983) (that last one has a funny mistake in the Contents).
Many of those shows and others are not currently available to watch, either streaming, on physical media, or even on YouTube or the Internet Archive. How can they be cult shows? Just because they’re old doesn’t make them good, or cult favorites. That first one was an actual news show. Important in television history, yes, but of interest only to history researchers.
And Sandy Duncan? I love Sandy Duncan. I did a book report on a Scholastic biography of her back in 8th grade. I have bootleg copies of half a dozen episodes of Funny Face and its follow-up series, The Sandy Duncan Show. But even I wouldn’t call it cult TV.
William Shatner starred as an attorney in For the People. If it had been a hit at the time, the Shat would not have been available for the second Star Trek pilot. The few episodes I’ve seen are well-written but again, not cult TV.
Yes, Brod gets others right, even if some of them are hard to find these days—Peter Falk’s Trials of O’Brien, The Joe Franklin Show, Northern Exposure, My World and Welcome To It, Coronet Blue, Amazing Stories, Electra-Woman and Dyna-Girl, and, of course, Firefly. These shows all have considerable followings.
Over and above my misgivings as to whether some of the shows should be here at all, the actual listings seem well-written, with “seem” being the operative word, unfortunately. Things like misquoting the well-remembered Timex tagline as “clicking” when it was actually “ticking,” saying Christopher Lloyd didn’t normally do television, calling Candice Bergen’s famous series character “Mercy” Brown, giving only one brief line to Marlin Hurt in the Beulah chapter when he created the character on radio, saying My Three Sons was Beverly Garland’s first “domestic” role when she had played Bing Crosby’s wife on his sitcom years earlier, all make me question everything else. And why does the listing for Sam Peckinpah’s The Westerner open with a shot of John Dehner, who was only in three episodes, rather than its star, Brian Keith.
No one is expected to know everything, of course, but if one is going to write about a show or an actor, it just seems logical to research them thoroughly. You don’t necessarily need to impart all the info you find, but it keeps you from offering incorrect or incomplete info.
Granted, a good proofreader and/or copy editor would have caught many of these mistakes and misquotes. This has long been a problem with Bear Manor’s publications. They’re often essential, in that they cover subjects no one else would cover, but they’re often tough to get through and, as here, the issues make the reader suspicious of all the other information in the book.
While I can’t deny I kind of enjoyed reading through Cult Television: 101 Forgotten Shows to Remember, there were so many points where I wanted to tear out what little hair I have left that I just can’t recommend it.
