“Ask and ye shall receive,” sayeth the good book, and after today, I certainly can’t argue.
Yesterday, I ended my review of “Buried Alive” by hoping that I’d be able to find something…anything…better to watch for today’s Scare of the Day. Lo and behold, this afternoon’s mail call brought just such an item: a copy of “The Paul Lynde Halloween Special,” courtesy of the fine folks at S’More Entertainment, and, people, this thing is awesome.
The show opens with Paul Lynde dressed in a Santa outfit, because…ho, ho, HO!…he’s gotten the holiday wrong! The gag continues with Lynde vanishing long enough to put on a full-body Easter Bunny costume, then reappearing to sing a verse of “My Funny Valentine” (which, thankfully, does not involve him wearing Cupid’s traditional attire). Eventually, however, his housekeeper, played by legendary Maxwell House spokeswoman Margaret Hamilton, buys him a clue; he wishes viewers everywhere a happy Halloween – adding, “Whoopie!” – and it’s off to the opening credits, where you won’t find a more definitively ‘70s list of guest stars without breaking out an episode of “The Love Boat.” Making appearances are…well, let’s not give away the whole game in the first inning.
Given that Halloween is a decidedly child-friendly holiday, it’s no surprise that Lynde only hesitates for about half a second before launching into a lyrically-tweaked version of “Kids,” his signature number from the Broadway musical, “Bye Bye Birdie.” While belting out the song, which includes hip new lines like, “There’s too much Alice Cooper / Not enough Alice Faye,” Lynde is being chased around by dancing young’uns; although they all team up for a chorus line of Rockettes-styled kicks toward the end, the conclusion finds Lynde tied up and thrown in a trash can, with the lid put on by none other than…Donnie and Marie! (They both flash their pearly whites at the camera and give the “OK” sign.)
From there, it’s off to the premise that keeps the rest of the show going. Lynde and Hamilton are off to visit her sister, but when they arrive, Lynde discovers that her sister is none other than Witchie-Poo (Billie Burke), and that his beloved housekeeper of the last 15 years is actually The Wicked Witch of the West. (For trivia buffs, it turns out that this particular appearance is officially the only time Hamilton deigned to put on the whole outfit, makeup and all, onscreen at any point after filming “The Wizard of Oz.”) Turns out that they’d like Lynde’s help in softening the image of witches, and they’re willing to offer him three wishes in return. He’s skeptical at first, which allows for guest appearances by Billy Barty and Betty White, but, eventually, he realizes that they’re serious about their offer.
So what’s his first wish…? He, uh, wants to be a trucker.
One magic wand wave later, and, God help us, Lynde is transformed into Big Red, a.k.a. the Rhinestone Trucker, so called because his driving outfit is a rhinestone-encrusted jumpsuit. (The front of the outfit is open clear down to the middle of his chest, revealing way more tufts of hair than anyone needed to see.) The CB radio jokes fly fast and furious for a few moments before settling into a storyline where we discover that Big Red and another trucker – played by Tim Conway – are both engaged to the same girl. If the CB jokes don’t nail down with some precision as to when this special was made, the actress who plays the girl does: it’s Roz Kelly, a.k.a. the long-legged, leather-clad Pinky Tuscadero on “Happy Days.” I mean, really, how long was the window where she was enough of a “name” to warrant a reference in the opening credits of a special like this one…? It can’t have been more than a year or two, tops. Anyway, the sketch ends up turning into a square-dance-styled number where Lynde, Conway, and Kelly sing and strut around a stage that’s dominated by two 18-wheelers. There’s a reason why they don’t make ‘em like this anymore, but, even so, you won’t be able to take your eyes off the screen.
Next up, it’s KISS! The performance of “Detroit Rock City” is clearly lip-synched, but, fuck it, who cares? It’s the classic foursome in all their glory, so it hardly matters. From there, Lynde wishes himself into the life of a rich sheik that kidnaps a woman – played by Florence Henderson – and tries to woo her to become his bride, in the process sneaking in jokes with punchlines involving “Laverne & Shirley” and “Baretta” (gee, y’think this originally aired on ABC?). Upon his return to the witches’ homestead, they made a request to go to “a real Hollywood disco,” and, shockingly, Lynde says he can make that happen. After a quick raiding of Liza Minnelli’s closet for just the right satin-encrusted jacket, Lynde takes the ladies to a haunted discothèque where…what luck!…Florence Henderson just happens to be performing a disco-fied version of “That Old Black Magic.”
AWESOME.
Perhaps sensing that viewers would be a little too riled up after Henderson’s number, the producers decided to bring the mood down a little. Cut to Peter Criss sitting at a piano in full make-up, offering a heartfelt rendition of “Beth.” Eventually, Criss’s bandmates emerge from the shadows and flank him, and after the song ends, Lynde and Hamilton join them to trade one-liners for a few minutes. (Lynde: “I can take one look at you four and tell you how you got your name and how you got your act: you had a fight, and your mothers told you to kiss and make-up!”) Soon, however, it’s time for Lynde to make his last wish, and he’s so smitten with the foursome that all he wants is for KISS to play another song! Say, guys, how about “King of the Nighttime World”? Done and done.
The show comes to its grand finale with the return of Roz Kelly, as she and Lynde duet on a god-awful song called “Disco Baby,” and all of the guest stars dance around the stage as Lynde hollers out, “I like that funky stuff!” Oh, wait, did I say all of the guest stars? Not true. Donnie and Marie never re-appear again (not too much of a surprise, since they weren’t mentioned in the credits to begin with), and the guys from KISS wisely ensconce themselves in the balcony, only looking down to frown at the shenanigans going on below. Paul Lynde closes by addressing the camera directly and offering his thanks to all the viewers, adding, “I hope that we were a howling success.”
Oh, yeah, I was howling all right…with laughter. As an artifact of the ’70s variety era, this is right up there with “The Brady Bunch Variety Hour.” It’s a must-see.
Just take a look for yourself:
