Audrey Meadows Movies

The inner-workings of a corrupt Las Vegas casino are exposed in Martin Scorsese's story of crime and punishment. The film chronicles the lives and times of three characters: "Ace" Rothstein (Robert De Niro), a bookmaking wizard; Nicky Santoro (Joe Pesci), a Mafia underboss and longtime best friend to Ace; and Ginger McKenna (Sharon Stone, in a role she was born to play), a leggy ex-prostitute with a fondness for jewelry and a penchant for playing the field. Ace plays by the rules (albeit Vegas rules, which, as he reminds the audience in voiceover, would make him a criminal in any other state), while Nicky and Ginger lie, cheat, and steal their respective ways to the top. The film's first hour and a half details their rise to power, while the second half follows their downfall as the FBI, corrupt government officials, and angry mob bosses pick apart their Camelot piece by piece. ~ Jeremy Beday, All Movie Guide

Jessica (Angela Lansbury) enters the rarefied world of art collecting when Julia Marcus Granger (Anne Scheeden), the heiress daughter of one of Jessica's oldest friends, is murdered. The most likely culprit turns out to be Julia's husband Donald (Christopher Allport), a known art thief. But Julia's sister Sabrina (Andra Millian) is convinced that Donald is innocent, and she prevails upon Jessica to prove it, leading our heroine down a twisted trail involving two entirely different sets of clues. This is the final episode of Murder She Wrote's second season. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In this generation gap movie of the early 1960s, Sandra Dee is Mollie Michaelson, a teenage rebel enamored with long-haired hippies and radical anti-nuclear political causes. Her involvement in such activities sends her ultra-conservative father Frank (James Stewart) into a tizzy. His reassuring wife is played by Audrey Meadows. Frank's furor deepens when Mollie is sent to Paris on an art scholarship. Back at home, Frank picks up a popular magazine and finds that his daughter has posed on the cover for a radical artist, Henri Bonnet (Philippe Forquet). He pursues her to save her from further degradation, but he ends up in a café in the wrong part of Paris just as it is raided by police. They arrest him on trumped-up and erroneous charges, and he struggles to prove that he's not guilty. This film was based on a play by Phoebe Ephron and Henry Ephron. ~ Michael Betzold, All Movie Guide

This collection features a variety of the funniest, if seldom-seen moments in The Honeymooners, and, of course, stars comedy greats Jackie Gleason, Art Carney, Audrey Meadows, and Joyce Randolph. For a more extensive collection of these "lost" episodes, try The Honeymooners: The Lost Episodes: Boxed Set. ~ Tracie Cooper, All Movie Guide

Although he tried very hard to become a movie star as well as create and produce television entertainment that was a lot flashier, like it or not, The Honeymooners ended up being the single creation for which Jackie Gleason was best known. One irony surrounding its recognition over the decades was that, as a series in its own right, it was only on for a single season, 1955-1956, with 39 episodes running 26 minutes each. They were performed in front of a live audience but shot on film to be broadcast later. All of the other Honeymooners shows -- the so-called "Lost Episodes" -- were comedy sketches of varying lengths, performed and broadcast live as part of Gleason's larger variety program The Jackie Gleason Show; they were preserved on kinescopes, films shot of the show off of a studio monitor. The results were crude, but effective, rather like the sketch comedy itself. The sketch performances of The Honeymooners from 1952-1955 may have established the setting, the premise, and the characters, but those 39 filmed episodes showed what could be done with them under ideal circumstances.

Set in a working-class section of Brooklyn (actually resembling Bushwick, but referred to as Bensonhurst because the latter sounded more "Brooklyn-like" to people from outside New York), the series told of the daily life of bus driver Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason) and his wife Alice (Audrey Meadows) of 328 Chauncey Street, a rundown, walk-up apartment building, and their neighbors and best friends, Ed Norton (Art Carney), a sewer-worker, and his wife Trixie (Joyce Randolph). Most of the action took place in the Kramdens' dimly lit, dingy apartment, with its table, chairs, dresser, and ice-box; we occasionally see the Nortons' better-decorated apartment upstairs, and every so often a scene might be set at Ralph's bus company or on a street adjacent to where Norton was working in a man-hole or the local pool room. Rarely there would be a scene in a fancy restaurant or at the home of one of Ralph's bosses or a wealthy acquaintance. Most of the scripts dealt with one of Ralph's "million-dollar ideas" and how they seemed to inevitably end in disaster for Ralph and Norton, usually with Alice (often joined by Trixie) watching sardonically from the sidelines. This often occurred after an argument in which Ralph has gesticulated with his fist in Alice's direction and muttered, "Bang! -- Zoom!" or "Do you want to go to the Moon?" Some of the other scripts dealt with Ralph and Norton's lodge, the Loyal Order of Racoons, or Ralph's stormy relationship with Alice's mother.

That The Honeymooners could rival the impact of I Love Lucy, which ran years longer and left behind many hundreds more episodes, is a tribute to its cast and crew, especially the show's writers. The best of The Honeymooners' scripts (and there were a lot that could qualify) were seamless, self-contained wholes unto themselves. The episodes come off as being every bit as beautifully symmetrical as the best one-act plays, often with some surprisingly serious subtexts beneath the surface, and a delightful self-referential quality where its own medium was concerned. The opening episode, "TV or Not TV," in which Ralph and Ed buy a television set jointly, only to discover that they can't get along for even a single night watching the set, is a side-splittingly comic sketch and essay on the seductive power of television on people's lives, presented at a time when it was a new device in homes. "Better Living Through TV" takes us back to the same subject from a slightly different angle and, in the process, manages to mercilessly parody a then-current Chef Boyardee commercial -- as well as poke fun at Gleason's avoidance of complete rehearsals -- while anticipating at least a generation's worth of laughable, late-night commercials to come. "The $99,000 Answer" gives us yet another glimpse of what television meant to (and did to) people in the 1950s.

All through the series, there were woven into the scripts little references to television as a pop-culture force, including the episodes "Ralph Kramden Inc.," "Here Comes the Bride," "The Baby-Sitter," etc. Yet Gleason and his writers also managed to leave room -- in the form of what was perhaps a last, fond look back for all of them -- for newspapers and magazines to figure in people's lives in a major way, as in "On Stage," "Head of the House," and "A Matter of Life and Death." What's even more astonishing is that they did it all in an authentically lower-class/working-class New York setting with accurate, outer-borough dialects and phrases, while, in the process, presenting a last look at the ideal of the great American melting pot. Just as important, they successfully sold it as a hit series to the rest of the country. Even as Milton Berle's popularity declined and television audiences grew beyond the confines of major cities and the Northeast to places that were less accepting of his urban, Jewish, burlesque-derived humor, Gleason and company presented the most urban-focused, New York ethnic comedy this side of The Goldbergs and scored a hit with it for one glowing season. And contrary to popular belief, the series didn't die because of low ratings. The ratings were fine and CBS and the sponsors were happy, but Gleason pulled the plug when he realized that his writers could never equal those 39 scripts used in that golden season. ~ Bruce Eder, All Movie Guide

Here's Jackie Gleason at his finest as he plays the hilarious Ralph Kramden, the wacky and beloved bus driver. ~ All Movie Guide

Season two of the ABC sitcom Too Close for Comfort climaxed with Muriel Rush (Nancy Dussault), 42-year-old wife of ultraconservative newspaper cartoonist Henry Rush (Ted Knight), giving birth to her third child, a son named Andrew. Season three finds Andrew old enough to be played by actual child actors instead of anonymous infants. In this case, the role is shared by twins William Thomas Cannon and Michael Philip Cannon) (though the baby "talks" with the voice of an adult actor in those scenes wherein the audience is made privy to Andrew's innermost thoughts). Now the neurotic Henry is given another child to fret over in addition to his pretty college-age daughters Jackie (Deborah Van Valkenburgh) and Sara (Lydia Cornell), who are still living in the apartment below Henry and Muriel's. The fact that the nursing Muriel needs extra help around the house permits the writers to beef up the character of Muriel's domineering mother Iris, played by Audrey Meadows. Once again, this addition is made to heap more frustration upon Henry, inasmuch as he and Iris are constitutionally incapable of seeing eye-to-eye on anything. Addtionally, viewers see more and more of Jackie's policeman fiancé Brad Turner (Jordan Suffin during season three. The season finale, "Family Business", rather curiously downplays the presence of Henry, Muriel et al. to concentrate on the characters played by guest stars Jimmy Baio, George Del Hoyo, and Hillary Bailey Smith. On second glance, however, maybe it isn't so curious: whenever an episode of this nature shows up on an established series, it's a sure bet that the episode is the pilot for a spinoff show (which was true in this case, though the spinoff never spun off anywhere, except into oblivion). Having moved from its high-rated Tuesday night slot to a Thursday berth, and suffering from a general drop of interest in sexy sitcoms that promised much but delivered little, Too Close for Comfort plummetted in the ratings during its third season. However, the show still boasted enough of a following to warrant two additional seasons, produced for first-run syndication. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Despite its cancellation by ABC at the end of the 1982-1983 TV season, the Britain-inspired sitcom Too Close for Comfort proved immensely successful when it was retooled as a first-run syndicated program and sold to individual stations and sponsors rather than telecast by a single network. As a result, the series was renewed for another season's worth of "syndie" episodes -- and that still wasn't the end of the story. The basic premise remains as ever: a conservative newspaper cartoonist named Henry Rush agonizes over the well-being of his toothsome daughters Jackie and Sara, who live in the lower apartment in the townhouse owned by Henry and his wife Muriel. Also, the familiar cast remains intact: Ted Knight as Henry, Nancy Dussault as Muriel, Deborah Van Valkenburgh as Jackie, Lydia Cornell as Sara, Joshua Goodwin as the Rushes' youngest child Andrew, and Audrey Meadows as Henry's termagant mother-in-law Iris, who now resides in the attic apartment above Henry and Muriel. With the announcement that series regulars Deborah Van Valkenburgh and Lydia Cornell would exit the series at the end of its second syndicated season (and fifth year on the air), the climactic episodes of Too Close for Comfort work overtime to prepare audiences for the series' major format change, coming up the following year. As the result of the cancellation of Henry's comic strip "Cosmic Cow," he and Muriel will soon forsake San Francisco, along with their longtime "house guest" Monroe Ficus (Jim J. Bullock), and move to Marin County, where Henry is destined to assume co-ownership of a small weekly newspaper. Armed with this premise, Too Close for Comfort would reemerge as The Ted Knight Show, beginning in April of 1986. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide