Marta Kristen
‘Lost in Space’ star Marta Kristen recalls moment she heard ‘60s
series was ending: ‘No one really knew why'
The actress starred as Judy Robinson in the hit sci-fi show
By Stephanie Nolasco | Fox News
Marta Kristen is enjoying a trip back to the future.
Nearly 60 years ago, audiences were introduced to the Robinson
family in the campy sci-fi series "Lost in Space," which aired from
1965 until 1968. For the first time since the show ended, the actress, along
with co-stars Bill Mumy and Angela Cartwright, have been reunited with their
costumes to commemorate Heritage Auctions’ "Monsters & Friends:
Featuring the Kevin Burns Collection." The sale kicks off on Thursday.
The news came shortly after Cartwright, 69, and Mumy, 67, teamed
up to release a new book titled "Lost (and Found) in Space2: Blast Off
Into the Expanded Edition." The pictorial memoir features over 925 photos
and more than 600 newly found images hand-selected by the TV siblings.
Kristen, 76, spoke to Fox News about how she got the role of
Judy Robinson, what her cast-mates were really like, and how she coped with the
show’s ending.
Fox News: How did you get the role of Judy Robinson?
Marta Kristen: Well, I originally came here from Norway to
Michigan where my parents taught and took a sabbatical. But James Harris, the
producer of "Lolita," actually discovered me at a restaurant. He
wanted me to play the lead role at 15 and my parents said, "No, absolutely
no way."
I guess he thought I had something that would resonate on screen
because he got me an agent. And through that agency, I started working in
almost every television show during that time. When it came time to cast Judy
Robinson, [creator] Irwin Allen said "I want that girl!" *laughs*I
met with him, but I wasn’t so sure if I wanted to do the show originally. I did
quite a bit of thinking – two weeks actually.
Fox News: Why the hesitation?
Kristen: Well, I wanted to go to New York and do theater. That
was always my first love. But people were telling me, "Are you crazy? This
is a golden opportunity to do a show that will not only make your career but
make television history." So after thinking about it for two weeks, I
decided to give it a chance.
Even though my part was diminished because the stories became
more about the Robot and Dr. Smith, it was still a wonderful show to do. It was
about family, about survival, about people working together. And even though
there were monsters and silly things like a giant carrot and all that, there
was a tenderness to it. It was something we all admired and needed in our
lives.
Fox News: In addition to "Lolita," is it true that you
were originally tested for a role in "The Sound of Music"? That would
have paired you with Angela Cartwright.
Kristen: I was tested for it, but I was told that I was too sexy
for it. I never saw myself as that. I always thought of myself as a Norwegian
Midwesterner *laughs*.
Fox News: It’s been reported that you felt your character Judy
Robinson was underused at times. If you were allowed to rewrite your character,
what would you have done differently?
Kristen: I think I would have had the wonderful Judy Robinson
walking around and quoting Shakespeare, which is what I did as a young child
actually *laughs*. I wanted to be on stage. I don’t know where it came from,
but I was reading Shakespeare as a child. I was excited about
"Macbeth." So I wanted to build on that.
Also, I felt like my character’s relationship with Major West
[Mark Goddard] could have been more than what it was. I think it could have
been more important within the small family. We were just emerging from the
‘50s, the cute little housewife with her apron and high heels. It was beginning
to radically change in the United States. So I would have liked to somehow
address that more.
Fox News: What was your relationship like with the cast?
Kristen: I love each and every one of them. Guy [Williams] was a
great gentleman and a teacher of music. He always had this magnificent
classical music coming out from his dressing room. June [Lockhart] taught me
killer Scrabble *laughs*… She’s an extraordinary woman who is so accomplished.
Jonathan [Harris] taught me the importance of having the utmost
respect for everyone on set, cast and crew. You show your love and care by
showing up on time, knowing your lines and not wasting anyone’s time. I knew
that, but he showed it. And of course, Bill [Mumy] And Angela [Cartwright] were
just the sweetest. I told Bill all about Bob Dylan and we would sing those
songs. And Mark is just hilarious. He makes me laugh until I can’t breathe.
It’s just a wicked sense of humor. I couldn’t have asked for a better cast.
We had our arguments and differences, naturally. We saw each
other each day for hours on end. But we were a family in many ways… I remember
the last time I saw Jonathan. I had just done a commercial. He put his arms
around me as I was helping him walk and he said, "Oh, that was a wonderful,
wonderful commercial you did."
He was so loving and supportive… I haven’t given that memory
much though because it’s too emotional. But looking back on it, it was a
lovely, lovely memory. He always made me feel special. And he would tell these
wonderful jokes that were just a bit off-color. I got to know his wife Gertrude
after he passed and we became close… She reminded me so much of my mother. She
was a great storyteller who also made me feel special. After she passed, I
adopted her dog.
Fox News: It sounds like you have a lot of wonderful memories.
Kristen: I gained so much from doing that show. I gained a sense
of an ensemble, a sense of togetherness, a sense of what it’s like to work on
the set, how to behave on the set. But most of all, I gained lasting
friendships with everyone and that has meant more to me than anything else.
Fox News: How did you cope when the show ended?
Kristen: Oh, I remember that moment vividly. I was at my house
and I received a phone call. I learned it was canceled. I was speechless. No
one really knew why. Later on, we found out that it was possibly Irwin’s battle
with CBS at the time. He wasn’t giving the scripts that CBS demanded. And they
wanted six of them, apparently, or something like that.
I think everyone has a different version of the story. But at
that time, Irwin just had so many projects. And I guess he just thought it
wasn’t worth the fight. So it was canceled. And it was unusual because we were
doing very well in the ratings. We had a very large fan base even then. But it
was an expensive show.
Fox News: How surprising has been for you to know that
"Lost in Space" continues to have such a large following?
Kristen: For me, it’s been more surprising to see younger people
finding and embracing the show. With CGI and the rise of all this new
technology, our show looks so simple *laughs*. But I think people connect with
it because it’s a story about family… When people watch it, it reminds them of
a simpler time, even though it was a very complicated and changing time. But
it’s a moment in time in our history of television. And it’s lovely to look
back.
Mort Sahl, revolutionary comic who influenced comedians from Lenny Bruce to Dave Chappelle, dies
Mort Sahl, revolutionary comic who influenced
comedians from Lenny Bruce to Dave Chappelle, dies
BY DENNIS MCLELLAN
OCT. 26, 2021 UPDATED 4:44 PM PT
Mort Sahl, who revolutionized
stand-up comedy in the mid-1950s with his insightful political and social
satire, has died at his home in Mill Valley, Calif., at 94.
Sahl, whose on- and off-stage
preoccupation with a conspiracy theory on the assassination of President John
F. Kennedy slowed his career in the late 1960s, died Tuesday, a family friend
overseeing his affairs told the New York Times.
At a time when brash comics in
suits and tuxedos typically were telling jokes about their wives and
mothers-in-law, Sahl shattered the stand-up stereotype, beginning at the hungry
i, a small, brick-walled basement club in San Francisco’s North Beach district.
Wearing a V-neck sweater and an
open-collared shirt — and clutching a rolled-up newspaper — the dark-haired USC
graduate with hooded eyes and a wolfish grin fearlessly zeroed in on Cold
War-era targets such as President Eisenhower, Sen. Joseph McCarthy and the
notorious House Un-American Activities Committee.
His casual, conversational style
would influence a generation of comedians, from Lenny Bruce to Dave Chappelle.
Sahl, who frequently punctuated
his punch lines with a dry, staccato laugh, spoke in a language that a writer
for the New Yorker magazine in 1957 described as “a unique cross between a
philosophy paper and the argot of modern jazz.”
Indeed, Sahl might leaven his
monologues with allusions to the Oedipus complex or references to monotheism
and then preface a new target by saying, “Dig this” — or, more often, “Onward!”
A 1960 New Yorker profile of Sahl
enumerated the “persons, places, objects, institutions, and ideas” he
disparaged during a 45-minute monologue, beginning with Charles de Gaulle and
followed by Eisenhower, segregation, comedian Shelley Berman, trade unions, the
film “Marty,” jazz, New York City, Berkeley, playwright Samuel Beckett,
newspapers, coffeehouses, sandals, J.D. Salinger, soiled raincoats — and 62
other subjects.
“I don’t tell jokes, I give
little lectures,” Sahl would tell his audiences. He’d generally conclude his
shows by asking, “Are there any groups I haven’t offended?”
“He was a force of nature, a whirlwind
whose ideas defined him; behind each joke lurked a sharply etched, cynical
worldview,” Gerald Nachman wrote in his 2003 book “Seriously Funny: The Rebel
Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s.”
Before Sahl, “it was heretical,
even career suicide, for a comedian to discuss politics, much less to cut up a
sitting president onstage,” wrote Nachman. While Will Rogers and Bob Hope were
comfortable, non-offensive establishment figures, Sahl was straight grenade
fire.
“When Rogers or Hope did
political material, their jokes weren’t meant to wound or to make anyone
squirm; Sahl’s were, and did,” Nachman said.
Moving on from the hungry i to
clubs such as Mister Kelly’s in Chicago, Basin Street East in New York and the
Crescendo in Los Angeles — as well as showrooms in Las Vegas and Miami — Sahl
was in the vanguard of a new generation of comedians.
“He was like Charlie Parker in
jazz,” said Woody Allen, an early fan. “There was a need for a revolution —
everybody was ready for the revolution. He totally restructured comedy.”
Sahl was known to devour numerous
newspapers and magazines every day to keep his topical act up-to-date. As for
his ideological leanings, Sahl told the Associated Press in 2007 that he
remained what he always was: “an independent, populist radical.”
During his heyday in the 1950s
and early ’60s, Sahl recorded several pioneering live stand-up comedy albums,
starred on Broadway in a short-lived revue, “The Next President” and played
small roles in several movies and television shows.
A jazz connoisseur whose friends
included Stan Kenton, Dave Brubeck and Paul Desmond, Sahl served as co-emcee of
the first Monterey Jazz Festival with Dizzy Gillespie in 1958 and was master of
ceremonies of the inaugural Playboy Jazz Festival in Chicago in 1959.
He even donned a tuxedo and
co-hosted the 1959 Academy Awards show, along with Laurence Olivier, Jerry
Lewis, David Niven, Tony Randall and Hope, who referred to Sahl as “the
favorite comedian of nuclear physicists everywhere.”
Sahl’s stock as a political
satirist was so high that Joseph P. Kennedy asked him to write jokes for his
son’s 1960 presidential run, which Sahl agreed to do while stressing that — as
a rule — he did not endorse candidates.
Indeed, the bipartisan Sahl joked
on television during the race that the senior Kennedy had told his son John:
“I’m putting you on an allowance. You’re not allowed one more cent than you
need to buy a landslide.”
Sahl didn’t waste time targeting
the new Kennedy White House.
But Joe Kennedy viewed the
comedian’s continued potshots at his son as disloyalty and, according to Sahl,
the Kennedy patriarch applied pressure to have him silenced. And when he
didn’t, Sahl wrote in “Heartland,” his 1976 memoir, “the work began to dry up.”
But things grew worse for Sahl’s career
after John F. Kennedy’s assassination in 1963.
In 1966, while hosting a talk
show on KTTV Channel 11 in Los Angeles, Sahl heard a news report that New
Orleans Dist. Atty. Jim Garrison claimed to have discovered evidence that
Kennedy’s assassination was the result of a conspiracy — contrary to the Warren
Commission’s conclusion that Lee Harvey Oswald was the lone assassin.
Sent to New Orleans to interview
Garrison, Sahl wound up volunteering to help him in his investigation. Off and
on over the next few years, Sahl worked for free as a deputized member of
Garrison’s assassination investigative team.
His association with the
controversial group so damaged Sahl’s reputation that it cost him TV, recording
and club jobs. His gross income, he later wrote, went from up to $1 million a
year to $13,000.
When he did perform, Sahl often
generated laughs by reading excerpts of what he considered “the more ludicrous
aspects” of the Warren Commission report and sometimes brought all 26 volumes
of the report onstage with him.
“I had them on the stage so
people could see the physical size of the deception,” he told the Rocky
Mountain News in 2001. “A lot of people did not want to hear it. But I thought
it was the end of the country. But you know, this country never ends. It’s like
a bad television show that they keep picking up for the next season.”
The Warren Commission report,
Nachman wrote in his book, “so traumatized him that he never recovered his
footing and still struggles against an ancient stigma that he’s a head case.”
But the Nixon administration and
ensuing Watergate scandal provided a new trove of material and helped turn the
tide for Sahl.
“When I made fun of Eisenhower,
the college audiences thought that I was making chaos out of order,” he wrote in
his memoir. “Twenty years later the college audiences are asking me to bring
order to chaos: Tell me what it means, man.”
Sahl had a stint writing
screenplays and contributing to various films and continued to offer his
caustic and satiric insights on America. In 1987, he returned to Broadway for a
few weeks in 1987 with a one-man show, “Mort Sahl on Broadway!” Late in life,
he taught a class in critical thinking at Claremont McKenna College.
An only child born to an American
father and a Canadian mother, Sahl was born May 11, 1927, in Montreal. After a
series of moves, the family settled in Los Angeles when Sahl was 7, and his
father became an administrator for the FBI.
A member of the ROTC while a
student at Belmont High School during World War II, the 15-year-old Sahl lied
about his age and joined the Army, a patriotic move that ended two weeks later
when his mother tracked him down at Ft. MacArthur in San Pedro.
After graduating from high school,
Sahl enlisted in the Army Air Forces and served with the 93rd Air Depot Group
in Anchorage, where he edited the post newspaper and reportedly spent 83
consecutive days on KP duty for publishing insubordinate comments about his
commanding officer.
“A few months under the heel of
authority,” Sahl said of his time in the military, “killed it for me.”
After his discharge in 1947, Sahl
attended Compton College on the GI Bill and then transferred to USC. He earned
a bachelor’s degree in public administration in 1950 and was working on a
graduate degree when he dropped out.
Over the next few years, he made
a number of stabs at show business. He and a friend rented a theater, where
Sahl wrote and staged experimental one-act plays. He also made his first brief
foray into stand-up comedy in strip clubs under the unlikely name Cal Southern.
“I did all the stuff other people
were doing,” he recalled in 1989. “I got a tie and a coat, and I talked about
the movies and did imitations of movie stars. I didn’t dare to talk about what
was really on my mind. That took a while. That takes some trust.”
While working as a used car
salesman and a messenger, he wrote an unpublished novel and several short
stories. He also attempted to sell material to other comedians, who told him
his offerings weren’t commercial enough.
After his girlfriend, Sue Babior,
left to attend UC Berkeley, Sahl headed north. He and Babior married in 1955
and divorced two and a half years later but not before she suggested that he
audition at the hungry i.
The small club featured only
singers and musicians at the time, but owner Enrico Banducci agreed to give
Sahl a shot in late December, 1953.
Although he received the
requisite laughs, having filled the club with his Berkeley friends on his opening
night, Sahl faced a far less accepting crowd the next night: The audience booed
and yelled, and pelted him with peanuts and pennies.
But Banducci let Sahl continue,
and within a few months the outspoken comic was generating standing-room-only
crowds.
Through the years, Sahl’s brand
of humor remained unchanged.
When George W. Bush became
president, Sahl pushed Eisenhower, Kennedy and Nixon aside and zeroed in on a
new target.
“He’s born again, you know,” Sahl
told a crowd in 2007, referring to the president newfound religious fervor.
“Which would raise the inevitable question: If you were given the unusual
opportunity to be born again, why would you come back as George Bush?”
Sahl was married and divorced
three times. His only child, Mort Jr., died from a drug overdose when he was 19
in 1996.
Betty Lynn, Thelma Lou on ‘The Andy Griffith Show,’ dead at 95
Betty Lynn died peacefully on
Saturday after a brief illness, The Andy Griffith Museum in Mount Airy, North
Carolina, announced in a statement
Betty Lynn, the film and
television actress best known for playing Barney Fife’s sweetheart Thelma Lou
on "The Andy Griffith Show," has died. She was 95.
The star died peacefully on
Saturday after a brief illness, The Andy Griffith Museum in Mount Airy, North
Carolina, announced in a statement.
Lynn appeared as Thelma Lou in
the hit series from 1961 until 1966. She reprised her role in "Return to
Mayberry," the made-for-TV movie where she and Fife (Don Knotts) got
married.
Born Elizabeth Ann Theresa Lynn
on Aug. 29, 1926, in Kansas City, Missouri, Lynn began studying dance and
acting at a young age. In 1944, she started performing as a part of USO Camp
Shows.
Lynn took her talents overseas,
performing in the USO for servicemembers during World War II. According to the
museum, she was "thought to be the only American woman to have traveled
the dangerous Burma Road during the war."
She moved to New York in the late
1940s and began acting in film, and later, television. While she had led a
successful decadeslong career as an actress, fans remember her best for her
role in "The Andy Griffith Show
Director and actor Ron Howard,
who played Sheriff Andy Taylor’s son, Opie, paid tribute to Lynn in a tweet on
Sunday stating she "brightened every scene she was in & every shooting
day she was on set."
In her later years, Lynn
participated in reunions with fellow cast members and various Mayberry-themed
festivals. Knotts died in 2006 at age 81.
Lynn moved from Hollywood to
Mount Airy in 2007 following a series of break-ins at her home. She expressed
her love for the city to The Associated Press in 2015.
"I think God’s blessed me," Lynn said at the time. "He brought me to a sweet town, wonderful people, and just said, ‘Now, that’s for you, Betty.’"
The museum shared that Lynn had
been working on an autobiography before her death. The book is now expected to
be released posthumously.
Lynn is survived by several
cousins. A memorial service will take place in Culver City, California. Details are to be released at a later date.
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