Green Bay Press-Gazette from Green Bay, Wisconsin • Page 8

A-8 Saturday, Oct. 19, 1985 Green Bay Press-Gazette ScceimelEimiteiiitaMmeimit For kids only Zany songwriter's book will delight young spirits Russian jokester on a roll By Warren Gerds Of the Press-Gazette Fresh from the "Comrade ton," expatriate Russian comedian Yakov Smirnoff gave a funny lesson in social studies Friday night at the Carlton Celebrity Room. During a question session with the audience, the obvious was asked. Why did he want come to the United States? Freedom. "In the Soviet Union, they say you have freedom of speech.

Here you have freedom after you speak, which is a nice little feature." Review The poet laureate of this genre is Shel Silverstein. Although he has his moments, Polisar isn't in Uncle Shel's class yet. There's nothing in this collection quite as hilarious as "I'm Being Eaten By a Boa Constrictor" or as whimsical as "Garbage." There are glimmers, however. The great thing about Silverstein is that he's equally delightful to both kids and adults. At his best, Polisar has the same knack.

"I Didn't Mean To" is an example: didn't mean to break the window, Or sit down on the cake. I didn 't mean to spill my grape juice Can 't a kid make a mistake? I didn't mean to forget my homework, I didn 't mean to break the jar, Or watch TV when you said not to, Or run down Grandma in Daddy's car." When he's on, Polisar is a clever subversive who sweeps us up in the fun of his atrocities. He's always putting jelly in his pants and feeding poison to the cats, or tying his sister to a tree and dropping the goldfish in the toilet bowl. Anybody who's that incorrigible is going to be cherished by a lot of kids and maybe even a few grownups. If he keeps it up, Polisar may be in serious danger of compromising his obscurity.

"Noises From Under the Rug: The Barry Louis Polisar Song-book" is published by Rainbow Morning Music and is priced at $12.98. By Dave Tianen Of the Press-Gazette Barry Louis Polisar could be the unsung Eddie Murphy of the Captain Crunch generation. If 8-year-olds frequented cabarets, Polisar could be a monster smash in Vegas. Instead, he's on the road hitting libraries and schools. His promotional materials contain raves from Weekly Reader and school librarian No-reen Steadman.

A songwriter-poet-artist, Polisar has collected his insanities from the past 10 years and published them between soft covers under the title "Noises From Under the Rug: The Barry Louis Polisar Songbook." The book is hilariously and aptly illustrated by Michael Stewart. Polisar has obviously zeroed in on all the topics that delight anarchistic young spirits. We have songs and poems on nosepicking "Don't Put Your Finger Up Your Nose;" barfing, "My Brother Threw Up on My Stuffed Toy Bunny;" running around nude, "I'm Standing Naked on the Kitchen Table (Trying to Get Your Attention)," and assorted other minor gross-outs, such as "Stanley Stole My Shoelace and Rubbed It in His Armpit." Polisar doesn't always have his nose in unmentionable places. Occasionally he'll switch mood to explore the pain of separation Miss or parental rejection Love My Although he's seldom political, Polisar also shows a flair for taking an adult issue like pacifism and addressing it in terms that are both funny and telling. wj'fc Michael Stewart drawing courtesy Rainbow Morning Music music in this drawing of him from the cover of his new book.

Imagination: Poetsongwriter Barry Louis Polisar is surrounded by images from his Smirnoff recounted his leaving the Soviet Union eight years ago. He said the KGB, the Soviet secret police, put him through the ringer. He was interrogated: 'Are you sure you want to get out of the Soviet I said, 'No, I'm doing a project on How did he get out? "They saw my show. They said, 'You can go At that moment, a man came up to the stage and handed Smirnoff a gift hat. On it were the letters KGB.

Smirnoff got a kick out of it, but he admitted at first the guy "scared the (deleted) out of me." Smirnoff show was a late seller. Last Friday, there were 200 seats sold. Come showtime, the place was nearly full, about 1,000. Smirnoff caught on here, as he is throughout the rest of the nation by way of TV commercials and movie and TV appearances. There's something about the phrase "Russian comedian" that's intriguing, and Smirnoff is making it work.

In his show, he noted there are such persons as Russian comedians. "They're there," he said. "They're dead." Smirnoff is quite acclimated to English, Americanisms and the U.S. lifestyle. Some of his jokes: "The only drugs we have Russia are downers.

They call them bullets." "They tried football in Russia, but they took it too literally. When the quarterback threw a bomb (laughter) it wasn't a pretty picture. Blew out half the stadium." "Soviet airplanes are different. The restrooms are outside." Where much of Smirnoff act is printable, that of his stage partner, The Unknown Comic, is not. Still, Murray Langs ton had 'em rolling in the aisles, as they say.

First he did his Unknown Comic bit, the stuff with the bag over his head. His clean stuff was handing out 8-by-10 photos of himself bags. He also had baby pictures little bags. After assorted grossings, he un-bagged himself and worked, as a real person, though the term is used advisedly. He was practically wall-to-wall blue, but again full of screwball yuks.

He knows what lurks in the minds of children By Dave Tianen Of the Press-Gazette On the outskirts of Washington D.C., in a suburban apartment in Silver Spring, Maryland, there resides a 31 -year-old cottage industry named Barry Louis Polisar. Polisar is a veteran singer-songwriter-poet who has crafted a career by singing about mean teachers, cranky dinosaurs, nosepicking, vegetables, underwear, and talking in the library. Obviously, he isn't aiming for the Sinatra crowd. His seven albums include "Naughty Songs for Boys and Girls" and "Stanley Stole My Shoelace and Rubbed it In His Armpit and Other Songs My Parents Won't Let Me Sing." Not surprisingly, Polisar has soured a few middle-aged hearts in his time. "When I was first starting out I heard complaints all the time," he admitted during a recent telephone interview.

"The complaint I heard weekly was, 'Aren't you giving kids bad Inevitably, it was somebody who didn't have kids." Although Polisar still sounds like the kind of outlaw who puts gum in his hair, he seems to have been granted a certain social acceptance. At least he's welcome in museums, schools and libraries throughout the East. Sometimes they even let him into fancy places like the Kennedy Center. Polisar's been likened to Maurice Sen-dak, Kinky Friedman and even Bob Dylan, but the most apt comparison probably came from the critic who called hims a "Shel Silverstein with hair." Silverstein is the bald and bearded poet who hangs out with Hugh Hefner and has written several bestsellers for kids like "Where The Sidewalk Ends" and "Light in the Attic." Polisar is good-humoredly philosophic about the comparison. "I guess I'm gonna someday reach a point where I won't be compared to someone else," he said.

"But it's not bad, I guess, as long as it's people I like, like Maury Sendak and Shel Silverstein. There the last two years people have been telling me, 'You know, you really should do a The offshoot is "Noises From Under the Rug: The Barry Louis Polisar Songbook" recently published by the author's Rainbow Morning Music. In the few weeks it's been available the collection has sold 750 copies. "For one guy selling in his room in Silver Spring I think that's phenomenal," Polisar said. Asked about his future plans, Polisar says, "My first project is getting out of debt with this book." Beyond that there are plans to do poetry book on Halloween and several more kid's books.

"I'll probably still do songs," he said. "The year before this I was just kind of coasting on automatic pilot. I had time to go to the movies in the afternoon, but I couldn't come up with any new songs. Now I'm swamped with work, I'm up 'til midnight, and I'm thinking of new songs all the time." is a real strong comparison with the stuff Silverstein does. His sense of humor is very similar to mine." When asked if he's ever met Silverstein, Polisar laughs.

"I was down in Key West one day with my wife and we were out walking. We literally rounded a corner and bumped into each other. It took me a second to recognize him. You could see we were both thinking: 'Is that Barry is that Shel Silverstein?" Polisar didn't start out writing for kids. Originally, he was a folk singer performing for adults.

When he was in college a cousin pestered him into auditioning with him at a comedy club. He got the job and then a teacher came up after one of his shows and asked him to come to her school. "My whole career's been like that," he said. "For a long time people would come up to me after a concert and ask for an album. So then I made seven albums.

Then they started asking for cassettes. For Murphy a singer? How could it be? Local anchor recalls role, fleeting taste of Hollywood Review f- m-mF 1 Gerds Warren Gerds is critic-at-large of the Press-Gazette By Cliff Radel Gannett News Service You all know Eddie Murphy. He makes people laugh. He's on radio and TV. He makes records and he's in the movies.

He's the Beverly Hills Cop. He's Buckwheat. He says things that make you giggle, but if you say them, you will get your mouth washed out with soap. But Murphy's Columbia release "How Could It Be" is not a comedy record. It's a singing album.

This is his first serious attempt at singing. Some people might say he's making a serious mistake. They're wrong. Murphy can't lose with this record. If it's a hit, he'll say, "See (expletive deleted), I can sing." If it bombs, he'll say, "See (expletive deleted), I can't sing." Either way, he gets more material for his comedy act.

Eddie Murphy isn't the first funnyman to sing. No, sir. In 1967, Bill Cosby had a hit single with "Little Ole Man (Uptight-Everything's Alright)." From there he went on to bigger and better things such as "The Cosby Show" and Jello Pudding Pops. So much for today's history lesson. Now, it's time for a special treat.

I'm going to put "How Could It Be" on the old turntable. Oh! Listen! The first song is playing. It sounds like something by Stevie Wonder. Guess what? It is. "Do is one of two songs Stevie Wonder wrote for the album.

Isn't that nice? And after all those nasty things Eddie Murphy has said about Stevie Let us now consider Chuck Ramsay's movie career. Yes, the Channel 2 anchorman has a film credit. It's in a movie that was a sensation in its time and is likely to play forever on TV "Anatomy of a Murder." Channel 32 is showing it tonight at 7. If you stick around long enough, you'll see Ramsay as a young Upper Michigan doctor in scenes with JLnmy Stewart. "It wasn't as big a thrill then as it is now when I look back at it," Ramsay said.

While Ramsay's role is small, he's in fast company. Along with Stewart are George C. Scott, Lee Remick, Ben Gazzara, Arthur O'Connell, Eve Arden, Orson Bean and Kathryn Grant (later Mrs. Bing Crosby). The score is by Duke Ellington, the direction by the famed Otto Preminger.

The movie was shot in and around Marquette, and released in 1959. It was based on a real murder case and trial that "turned the area upside down," Ramsay recalled. Then Hollywood came in. The movie made a big splash nationwide. That was partly because it dealt with forbidden fruit up to then, rape and more liberal use of language.

Ramsay said, "When they referred to the panties I mean, it iust wasn't heard, 'panties. I would hope that it wasn't the beginning of what we have now in the movies, but it might have been." Also, while Stewart was a big name, others were basically couldn't bear to watch himself. He turned away from the screen. "I didn't actually see myself until three or four years after that," he said. "I didn't care for it then, I don't care for it now.

That's when I was a skinny, hatch-headed kid (actually 25)." Things have gotten a bit worse with time. Now his children mercilessly rib him, especially about his slicked-back hair. "They see my hair, they say, 'Ouuuooo, the wet head's dead," he said. All things considered, Ramsay enjoys recounting the movie and the tales surrounding it. At the time, he was just starting out in TV.

He orginally was slated to be a $10-a-day extra. Then a casting man came to the Marquette station looking for someone who could handle lines. Ramsay figures he got the role because he looked the part. "I'll tell you the most impressive thing to me. It was not Jimmy Stewart or Lee Remick.

It was Otto Preminger. "Growing up as a kid, Otto Preminger made the best Nazi during those post-World War II movies that I ever saw in my life that bald-headed, big man. "When we got through cutting the scene, he said (with gusto and an accent), 'Gud chob Chaaalie! Cut! and I heard him talk like that in concentration camps. So it was exciting to me. "I got $90 for the part and I Please see Gerds A-9 Wonder, too.

Shame on you, Eddie. This shows that Stevie is a good sport. "Do also shows that Eddie Murphy can sing. Yes, it's true. He can carry a tune and everything.

Murphy sings in a delicate, high-pitched voice. He sounds a little like Stevie Wonder when he gets excited. The next song is a spelling lesson: "C-O-N Confused." This is nothing like "C-I-L-L My Lan-'lord," which Eddie used to recite on "Saturday Night Live," so it shows he has been boning up on his spelling. Now that he can spell, maybe he can work on another bad habit: Talking dirty. He says one naughty word on "C-O-N Confused." It's not a real nasty one.

It's the four-letter word grownups use when they want something stronger than "dang." And I'm sad to report that there is an even naughtier word on the inner sleeve of this record. It is a bad, bad word that will curdle the milk of those nice men and ladies in Washington, D.C., who want records to be as pure as your local bookstore. Now we're playing side two. The first song is bound to make you tired. It's called "Party All The Time," and it's by Rick James.

It's a funk piece. Now I have it Eddie Murphy sings like oh, you're never going to believe this he sings like a cross between two guys he likes to make fun of, Michael Jackson and Prince. Murphy Eddie Murphy He's not kidding doesn't sound exactly like Jackson or Prince, but he does have Jackson's soft touch, and Prince's devilish tone. The next two songs, Me, Us, We," and "My God is Color Blind," are even more Princelike. They cover a subject near and dear to Prince's heart, the Big, Big Guy upstairs.

Murphy wrote both songs in the spirit of ecumenicalism. That's a big word, isn't it? Don't ask me what it means. Buy your own dictionary. Next up, so to speak, is "Everything's Coming Up Roses." This is not the same tune Ethel Merman used to sing when she wanted to break the sound barrier. This is a new number written by Stevie Wonder.

It's OK, but Eddie Murphy is no Ethel Merman. The next song is hey! where's the next song? That's only eight. Where's No. What's going on here? Only eight songs. Shoot! That's over a buck a tune.

Ouch! newcomers. Scott and Gazzara were in their first major roles, and Remick had only been slightly launched. "All three of those turned out to be real heavyweights, especially George C. Scott," Ramsay said. So Ramsay cherishes the movie.

His part is another matter. He remembers his lines exactly, "like my serial number in the service." They come in a crucial part in the movie, when Stewart arrives at a hospital to get key information from his assistant, O'Connell, who has been hurt in a car accident. Stewart asks "Dr. Ramsay" how O'Connell is. "He's hanged up a little bit, but there doesn't seem to be anything else wrong with him." "Can I see him?" "Yes, but we'd like to watch him for a day or so." Come premiere time, Ramsay.