SCTV and Me

At the moment I write this, Amazon Prime is streaming all six seasons of SCTV, AKA Second City Television, the sketch comedy show that arose from Toronto's Second City comedy troupe. Like many others, I was a fan during the series' original run; indeed, we moved to Alberta just in time for the third season, which was filmed in Edmonton at the old Allard studios on 51st avenue and even on location in Leduc, where we lived at the time. 

Because you never know how long any given show will be available these days, I immediately started watching SCTV on Prime from the beginning to try to capture all the episodes I missed back in the 70s and 80s and to revisit any I remembered. It turns out that out of the entire first and second seasons--as far as I've gotten--I remember only the fifth and 26th episodes of the first season, so much of the comedy is new to me thus far--quite a delight. 

The show is as silly as I remember, but also much sharper, with social commentary, double entendres, and pop culture references that went over my head as an adolescent. 

My favourite sketch from the first season is "Crossword" from episode four. I was astounded when the opening credits included Sir Ralph Richardson and Sir John Gielgud, two incredibly gifted and respected British stars of stage and screen. I figured this was a gag--including these legends alongside Dave Thomas, Eugene Levy, John Candy, Catherine O'Hara, Andrea Martin, Joe Flaherty, and Harold Ramis--virtually unknown, comparatively, especially in the mid-1970s. But sure enough, the two knights show up in a sketch called, "Crosswords," in which they're cast in a Harold Pinter play and exchange dry, mundane dialogue about which landmarks they should visit and how to solve the crossword clues. It's a strange skit, capturing the weird feeling of Pinter plays perfectly, and the two gentlemen are hilarious in the most deadpan manner possible. I'd love to know what circumstances made this bit of television history possible. 

It's also neat to see the loose narrative of the fictional SCTV evolve during the first two seasons; the skits are held together with the various goings-on at the station itself, and it amuses me to no end that Harold Ramis' departure as Moe Green, station manager, is covered by a kidnapping; the station is too cheap to pay the $2000 ransom, and Moe Green is never seen again on the show. Grim! 

As with any sketch show, some bits are funnier than others, but the actors really give every scene their all, and the cheap production values bring their own charm, putting the show's success almost entirely in the hands of the writers and comedians. 

I already remember why I loved this show, and it's a real treat to finally see the many episodes I missed. Looking forward to seasons three to six! 

Kinda Cool After All

A few months ago I found out a colleague of mine is an extra in Cool Runnings (Jon Turtletaub, 1993), the movie about the debut of the Jamaican bobsled team at the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary, Alberta. In order to spot her, I watched the film, but my expectations were low; I was expecting a pretty broad comedy. Instead, I found Cool Runnings respectful, sincere, and comedic in the best sense; we laugh with the characters, not at them. The four young men who form the team feel fully formed; they're not stereotypes, and each young man has a character arc of his own, as well as a different reason for their quixotic quest for Olympic glory. John Candy plays their grumpy coach, a man shamed by cheating with a different bobsled squad in the distant past. And Candy, too, is good; his role is more dramatic than comedic. 

The journey of these five men feels real; it's compelling, dramatic without slipping into hyperbole, touching where it needs to be, and there's even a solid message about character and grit, and how that's more important than winning. The lads' final run down the bobsled course is very moving, though I have no idea if that's how the event played out in reality. 

And it was nice to see some location shots of Calgary circa the early 1990s (redressed to look like 1988, of course). 

Cool Runnings really surprised me. The film isn't a classic, but its makers should be commended for their efforts.