The real treat here is the episode featuring Ricky Nelson performing 'Hello Mary Lou.'
Tools:
Recommend review to a friend »
For 14 years, Americans tuned in to watch "The Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet," a sitcom featuring former band leader Ozzie Nelson, his singer-wife Harriet, and their two boys, David and Ricky. It wasn't reality TV, and it wasn't a straight fictional sitcom, either. Their TV house on 822 Sycamore Road was built to look like an exact replica of the Nelsons' Hollywood home, and the episodes were often inspired by the Nelsons' real lives, especially young Ricky's, who had a propensity for lowering his head and driving full speed ahead, no matter what was involved. But it wasn't reality TV. The Nelsons played themselves, but there were still scripts to memorize and you always suspected that when the cameras stopped rolling there was a side to the family that you never saw. I mean, name two siblings in America other than David and Ricky that never really fought? These guys were as polite to each other as they were to their teachers or parents, whom they addressed as "ma'am" or "sir." As in "No, ma'am," or "Yes, sir." But I can't think of a better way to get a feel for the Fifties than by watching "The Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet."
Ozzie and Harriet remained pretty much the same throughout this squeaky clean-cut series. Ozzie was the ever-smiling, often bumbling or hapless father who had a good relationship with his wife and sons, and who never raised his voice or got angry. There seemed to be no secrets with this group, and no topic that was too small or too taboo to bring up. Ozzie always seemed to talk on a level that would have made him a great kiddie show host, especially when he wore those cardigan sweaters that Mr. Rogers later would discover. Harriet, meanwhile, was the always perfectly coiffed and poised matron who was the quiet voice of reason and the apron-wearing expert on social graces. It's the boys who did all the changing, Ricky especially. Viewers first saw him as a milder, 11-year-old version of Dennis the Menace--that twinkle-in-the-eye mischief-maker who was basically a good kid but had some pretty definite ideas about how to have fun. Then, before you knew it, Ricky was caught up in the brand new rock 'n' roll craze and dressed like Elvis Presley for one Halloween episode. The pre-teens went nuts. The family had always been musical, with the boys playing multiple instruments, so it was a no-brainer for Ozzie to figure out how to incorporate Ricky's playing into the show. His first musical outing aired on April 10, 1957, with "Ricky the Drummer." Quickly, Ricky Nelson became a teen idol, and his father, who had the same sort of control over this show as Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz had over theirs, made sure to incorporate every single song somehow in the family sitcom. If there wasn't a way to work in the song during the show, then it was tacked on at the end, like an epilogue or a bonus scene.
By the time he reached the age of 21, Ricky Nelson had earned nine gold records for Imperial Records, with two of his biggest hits topping the Billboard charts. "Travelin' Man" was technically the first rock video, because Ozzie found a way to intercut location footage with Ricky's performance. "Hello Mary Lou" was Ricky's biggest hit ever, selling over 7 million records worldwide, and that song appears in this "Best of Ricky and Dave" collection. And so viewers watched Ricky go from an impish adolescent to teen to teen rock star to young married man, all in the span of 14 TV seasons. The quieter, more steady older brother Dave also grew up and got married by the show's end, with his wife June and Rick's wife Kris also appearing on the show. Because they were real people, Americans really formed an attachment to the Nelsons. It's as if they were part of all of our own extended families, we seemed to know them so well and watched them over such a long period of time.
A year ago I was looking to buy an "Ozzie & Harriet" collection and went to amazon.com, where there seemed to be differences of opinion about which was the best collection. Well, after making the wrong choice, I can tell you that the Shout! Factory releases, which are approved by Harriet Nelson, are the ones to buy. Some viewers groused that the episodes weren't complete and that they had been cropped. But the Brand X collection offered episodes that looked as if a spy had broken into the Ozzie & Harriet cabinet and photographed raw footage. There's no edge at all, with black irregular borders and a picture that looks like it was made from a VHS camcorder trying to record a VHS playback image. But the Shout! Factory releases have good production values and classy packaging. To me, it's no contest. If you want to buy "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet," these are the collections to get. Fans might wish for complete season releases, but let's get real. Fourteen packages might seem a bit ambitious, especially when the show's wider appeal now is based on nostalgia for some and curiosity for others. At least these "Best of" collections span the entire series, so even if you purchase just one of them you're getting a taste of what made this show such a part of American's weekly television-watching.
As with many Fifties' and early Sixties' sitcoms, the pacing is slow, the dialogue so polite you won't believe it, and the plots based on a single, small thing-like a letter an uncle left for Ricky that's not to be opened until his 21st birthday, which has the whole family suddenly hyper-curious about what's inside. No one can wait two more days until Ricky turns 21 (and wants to celebrate by going out to dinner with his family, rather than having a party with friends). But the writing is actually pretty solid, and there's a surprising degree of inventiveness that goes into each episode. The twists that happen feel both real and surprising, whether it's two brothers competing for the same girl (and a ruse about identical twins, one for each) or a road race that pits Ozzie in a 1920's jalopy against the boys and a Fifties' roadster.
Twenty-four episodes are included on four single-sided discs and housed in two slim clear plastic keep cases with a cardboard slipcase. There are some nice touches here, like pre-"Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet" family photos printed on the inside of the covers, and a six-page (covers included) color booklet that describes each episode and lists the season and air date for each. There's also a cast list, so it's easy to see that Oz's neighbors and pals "Thorny" Thornberry and Darby were played by Don DeFore and Parley Baer.
Here are the episodes that are included:
1) "A Door Key for David" (Season 1, 5-22-53). Oz makes a big ceremonial deal about giving Dave his own house key, and lectures about the importance of not losing it come back to haunt Oz (and his neighbor).
2) "Ricky's Lost Letter" (Season 2, 3-12-54). Ricky has been pining to write a girl he met on vacation, but Ozzie loses the letter with her address on it, so he and Thorny try to make amends.
3) "Father Son Tournament" (Season 2, 3-19-54). Ozzie's dilemma is which son to choose for the Y's annual father-son table tennis tournament, a decision made tougher by Thorny's goading that he and his boy are going to win. Does Oz choose the older son, or the more athletic one?
Average user rating (1-5):
Not yet rated.
Not yet rated.
[release]24392[/release]