Reviewer's Note: Way back in 2006, I began reviewing the
first five seasons of Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. So, for this new
complete series set, I'll combine some of those older reviews with new
observations and information about this release.
Shazam! CBS DVD and Paramount have released Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.:
The Complete Series, a single volume, 24-disc collection of the CBS
smash-hit sitcom that ruled the Nielsens during its 1964-1969 run.
Starring Jim Nabors and Frank Sutton (one of television's most
accomplished, and least appreciated, comedy teams), Gomer Pyle,
U.S.M.C. absolutely enraged elitist "television critics" and
baffled bitter social commentators who lamented the series' massive
popularity as a sure sign that 1960s TV was a cultural wasteland of
science-fiction, fantasy, and hillbilly junk, aimed at the lowest common
denominator. Affording these helpful purveyors of aesthetic tastes their
proper due respect, tens of millions of weekly viewers in "fly-over"
country promptly sounded a Bronx cheer to their "betters," and went
right back to enjoying the silly, sweet (and beautifully executed)
antics of Private Pyle and Sergeant Carter, in the process making
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. a truly iconic comedy series that survives to
this day in syndication, and with good reason: it's funny as hell. I
didn't see anything new here in terms of transfers or extras, compared
to earlier single season DVD releases of Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.
(the extras all come on season one), so if you have those sets already,
there's no need to double dip. However, anyone new to the show (as well
as those fans of its host series, The Andy Griffith Show) will
want this set. Got that, you knuckle-headed, goldbricking goof-offs?
On the last broadcast episode of the 1964 season of The Andy
Griffith Show, gas station attendant Gomer Pyle (Jim Nabors) marched
into Sheriff Andy Taylor's (Andy Griffith) Mayberry office, singing the
Marine Corps hymn, and announced that he had just signed up for active
duty. Having co-starred on The Andy Griffith Show for only a year
and a half, it was quite a coup for the multi-talented Nabors to be
given his own starring vehicle--particularly one with such an impressive
pedigree and potential for success. Originally intended for George
Lindsay (who would go on to play Goober Pyle, Gomer's nephew, on the
Griffith show), the Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. spin-off series was
the idea of Aaron Rubin, a veteran of TV comedy (it's important to note
here, though, that legendary scripters Everett Greenbaum and Jim
Fritzell are credited with creating the "Gomer Pyle" character for
The Andy Griffith Show). Rubin had worked as a writer for the
classic military service comedy, The Phil Silvers Show, as well
as being a producer, writer and story consultant for the enormously
popular The Andy Griffith Show. Along with Andy Griffith (who
gets an "Associated with" credit at the end of each Gomer Pyle,
U.S.M.C. episode), Rubin's premise took the bumbling, country yokel
with the heart of gold, and stuck him into the toughest military outfit
in the world, matching Pyle up with the meanest, loudest drill
instructor they could find: Gunnery Sergeant Vince Carter (Frank
Sutton). A pilot was shot, featuring Sheriff Taylor taking Gomer to his
induction, while helping Gomer through the first few hours of his boot
camp. That fall, Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. premiered, and was an
immediate smash hit with viewers (at least according to the Nielsens),
ranking third overall in the 1964-1965 ratings, even beating out its
original host series (an event, according to some insiders, that
apparently rankled Andy Griffith, when Nabors undiplomatically crowed
about beating his old series). During its five year prime-time run,
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. never left the Nielsen Top Ten--a considerable
accomplishment for a sitcom.
Considering its intimate connection with one of the most beloved,
iconic sitcoms in television history, it's too bad that Gomer Pyle,
U.S.M.C. has never received the kind of fan adoration or critical
scholarship that's been afforded its host series, The Andy Griffith
Show. Equally popular with viewers during its original run, it has
lasted for decades in syndication all over the world, just like The
Andy Griffith Show. Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. features one of that
show's most popular reoccurring characters, supported by most of the
creative talent that went into making The Andy Griffith Show a
pop culture phenomenon. While I would guess one of the big reasons
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. never achieved any kind of cult following was
the show's own limited format (no insular "universe" populated by
eccentrics, such as Mayberry, is created), certainly as big a stumbling
block was the (unfair) initial and seemingly enduring critical reaction
to the Gomer Pyle character, dimming the series' chances at later
appreciation. The Andy Griffith Show was well-liked by the
critics during its original broadcast run, but they didn't think it was
the masterpiece that everybody considers it now. And when Gomer Pyle,
U.S.M.C. premiered, those same critics were far less kind. Something
about the over-enthusiastic, slow-on-the-uptake Gomer going through the
slapstick motions of Marine basic training, rubbed the urban, elitist
critics the wrong way, provoking a disdain for the show and the
character that quickly made even the mere mention of the series' name a
punch line for comedians and talk show hosts who wanted a cheap laugh
(Carson used it for years as a reliable laugh-getter). Despite its
enormous popular success, Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. was never
nominated for an Emmy, another good indication of how it was taken for
granted in an industry that could barely contain its disdain for
anything Southern or rural.
Viewed today, Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. comes off extremely well
compared to its ignominious reputation. First and foremost, it
accomplishes what it sets out to do: it's funny. That may seem
simplistic praise, but creating a comedy show that gets laughs over
forty years later is no small accomplishment, considering the changes in
time and taste. You have to hand it to Jim Nabors; he is paralyzingly
funny as Gomer Pyle. Comedy of course is subjective; what strikes one
person as hilarious can cause teeth-grinding with another (Jerry Lewis
would be the acid test for that theory...and you know where I stand with
that genius). So it's difficult to bring somebody over from the "other
side". Either you find Nabors funny as Gomer, or you don't. I do.
Enacting a character such as Gomer, a totally pure, naive, optimistic,
good-hearted personality, who also happens to be a slow "country
bumpkin," takes a complete commitment by the actor, a willingness to be
100% honest in his portrayal, while being "in the moment" and at one
with the character, at all times on the screen. Otherwise, the character
becomes a cartoon; we never really believe in him as a whole person.
While critics then and now may suggest that's precisely what Gomer
was--a grotesque cartoon characterization--I find that not to be the
case at all. Nabors is quite adept at making Gomer a believable human
being, with faults and a range of emotions that result in quite an
endearing, likeable character. Nabors may state in one of the episodes'
commentaries here that's he's not a great actor (he had never acted
before taking on the role for Griffith), but perhaps what he meant was
that he's not a traditionally-trained actor. Creating a character such
as Gomer Pyle, whom people remember and still seek out fifty years
later, is nothing to sneeze at for any actor, regardless of their
training or pedigree.
Of course, you can't have such a sweet character like Gomer in a show
without a comedic foil, a counterbalance, and Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.
found a brilliant one in the guise of Frank Sutton's Gunnery Sergeant
Vince Carter. Unlike Nabors, Sutton was a classically trained actor
prior to this TV assignment, and as hot-headed Sgt. Carter his is
letter perfect. I can't imagine a tougher assignment for an actor
than Sutton's basic responsibility in Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.: blow
up at Pyle each time he screws up. But somehow, particularly in the
first season when Sgt. Carter is at his most adversarial with Pyle,
Sutton manages to bring a new spin to each of his patented explosion
scenes, doing a slow burn better than just about anybody in the
business. There's something about the absolute insanity of his
rage, the savage anger in his face and voice, that makes Sutton's
chewing out of Nabors surprisingly riveting...and fall-down funny.
Again, if that was all Sutton had to do, he'd be a cartoon, as well. But
he manages to bring subtleties to the role, as well; all one has to do
is watch his alert, bright eyes to see that this is an extremely skilled
actor listening, watching, and reacting to Nabors, in perfect synch.
He's totally in the moment and in the character, just like Nabors.
They're a justifiably famous TV comedy team, with a chemistry together
that is rare (and the crime is, you never hear their names mentioned
when the great comedy teams of television are listed or discussed).
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.'s framework, both thematically and
visually, is a bit more rigidly structured than its host series, The
Andy Griffith Show, with Gomer and Sgt. Carter sticking close to
that claustrophobic barracks for much of the series. However, it's
really no different from most successful TV series in the 1960s, when
the networks strived for a reliably repeatable experience for its
mainstream audiences. Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. utilizes the same four
or five basic sets (the men's barracks, Sgt. Carter's barracks, the
small area outside the barracks, and then pick-up shots in various
anonymous bars, lobbies, stores and other buildings--all from the famous
"Forty Acres" lot), to create a visual continuity that varies very
little from episode to episode, season to season. Camerawork is
restricted to the same master shot, two-shot, over-the-shoulder P.O.V.,
and close-up technique that marks most televised shows from this era,
and background mise-en-scene is limited to the barest essentials
(that set dresser couldn't have been too busy). What we have, then, is a
regimented visual field created strictly to showcase the actor
delivering the screenwriter's dialogue. Now some TV critics detest such
rigidity, seeing it as artistic non-growth. But that view doesn't take
into account the honing of the performances that occurs when actors,
particularly in a sitcom, have the chance to perfect their timing and
delivery over a period of years, within a stable framework. And with
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C., the scripts, while at times perhaps too
"sitcom-y" for some more fussy modern tastes, deliver solid, dependable
laughs time and time again, due largely to the expert mugging of Jim
Nabors and Frank Sutton. With the series under the steady guidance of
creators Aaron Rubin and Sheldon Leonard, it deviates little from its
locked-down premise; week after week, Sutton and Nabors are able to
cruise along with these silly little 25-minute farces with supreme ease,
finding endless variations on line deliveries and facial expressions
that never cease to amuse.
The characterizations, and then subsequently the comedic dynamics,
did subtly change over the five seasons, though. After all, there
had to be some growth; you couldn't just have Carter yelling at
Pyle for his umpteenth foul-up for 150 episodes. As the series
progressed, Carter became more of an overt friend to Gomer, while Gomer
became much more competent in his duties. You can already see the
progression the series would take right in the first season, when
Carter, despite his hatred for Pyle's disorganization, comes to realize
that Pyle is a hard worker and a good soul. Slowly but surely, Gomer's
and Carter's relationship moves closer towards friendship, rather than
strictly a D.I. and his recruit. Gomer of course considers Carter his
true friend; that dynamic never wavers, and provides plenty of the
comedy (and pathos) whenever Carter balls out Gomer (and feels guilty
about it later). Carter begins to realize that he has to deal with
Gomer, regardless of how he feels about him, and a grudging, growing
kind of tolerance (or at least acceptance) for Gomer's screw-ups,
settles in, before they become full-blown pals, hanging out together
during free time, and even double-dating. Those love lives of Gomer's
and Carter's gets a boost during the fourth season, when the series
spends a bit more time with the boys' relationships with girlfriends
Lou-Ann Poovie (Elizabeth MacRae) and Bunny Wilson (Barbara Stuart). The
hijinks centered around the barracks and "peacetime" military life on a
Marine base (at least it was peacetime according to CBS) are still here,
but more traditional sitcom romance plot lines eventually creep in.
Sergeant Carter has the overtly "funny" relationship with the
experienced Bunny. Ever fearful of total commitment, Carter's
misadventures with his long-term girlfriend are usually predicated on
his stretching the truth, or ignoring her feelings outright, until he
comes around and realizes he has it pretty good with the understanding
Bunny.
Gomer's love life (now there's something to ponder),
nonexistent during the early seasons, seems to be steady and solid as
the series wound down. What, exactly, the nature of that relationship
is, though, is anybody's guess. "Chaste" wouldn't even begin to describe
Nabors' pursuit of MacRae--in fact, "pursuit" is too strong a word, as
well. The screenwriters have the unenviable task of maturing Gomer
through the series (he's doing rather well on base by the last two
seasons), while still trying to keep him an innocent from Mayberry,
going blithely through the world, oblivious to its sophistications. So
how do you have a character be a Marine (not exactly a sexually reticent
occupation, according to decades of stereotypes in movies and TV), with
a steady, gorgeous girlfriend, and evidently a fistful of nightly passes
(he does seem to go off base quite a bit), and yet still keep him a
virgin? Or is he a virgin? Gomer's sexuality is necessarily vague
because the minute the audience sees Gomer as a sexually active man--not
just a sexually active man but a Marine, for god's sake--his innocence,
and the show's, is lost. So dinners at the cafe, and movies, and
snuggling on the couch are about the only action we're going to see here
between Gomer and Lou-Ann. When Gomer finds himself going to a drive-in
movie with guest star Carol Burnett as Corporal Carol in a season four
outing, he's oblivious to Carol's expectations that he "perform."
Looking at a nearby couple making out, Gomer says, with genuine wonder,
"They're missing the best part of the cartoon." That's sweet, innocent,
naive Gomer, through and through.
And of course, the simple, "country" ethics of the show (brought over
from The Andy Griffith Show) are on display throughout the
series, with the same message hammered home episode after episode:
good-natured, good-humored, thoroughly honest Gomer will win out
every single time over someone--usually Sergeant Carter--who is
dishonest in either their actions or, more importantly, their true
feelings. A big source of the comedy in Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. is
watching Carter expend a terrific amount of energy trying to suppress
Gomer's goodness (telling him he's naive, trying to get him to be less
conscientious because he goes overboard), only to admit defeat and
understand, in the end, that Gomer was right all along. It was better to
be honest and truthful. And good. If Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. has an
identifiable central theme, it might be best described as: Gomer's
seemingly simple-minded ideals may be old-fashioned and even comical,
but they're still the best way to live one's life. Quite a few critics,
then and now however, saw the show differently, reserving a special
level of scorn for it because Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. failed, in
their minds, to be "honest" about Vietnam. After all: how could a TV
series, set on a Marine base in contemporary late 1960s America, not
mention Vietnam?
Of course that's a ridiculous complaint for an entertainment show
that was in no way designed to be socially or politically relevant. What
were the producers of the series supposed to do--turn Gomer Pyle,
U.S.M.C. into a hard-hitting, fact-based docu-drama to satisfy some
self-important, faux-outraged critics? The public was well aware of what
was going on in Vietnam; they saw it every night on their national news,
and every week big and small towns all across the country welcomed home
their fallen soldiers for the last time. Did those viewers need
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C., of all shows, to give them further
elucidations on that awful war? Those critics couldn't see the
simplicity of the transaction the show offered to the public? Just for
one half hour every Friday night: a reassuring respite from the horrors
of that all too real war (and please don't insult me by emailing that it
unfairly enticed kids to join up--what kid didn't know this was all
fantasy? TV viewers have always been way smarter than critics allow)?
Yes, it was a fantasy version of Marine life, but in its own way, within
in its own fictional boundaries, a valid one, since Gomer never actually
went off to war (CBS demanded that Pyle never be deployed into action,
lest the realities of the world intrude on the fantasy land of Gomer's
and Carter's Marine life--such as the tragic reality that a number of
those young men seen marching with Jim Nabors in the opening credits,
would later fall in battle overseas). Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. never
claimed to be anything but an entertaining service comedy, and at this,
it expertly succeeded. If it failed to reflect the reality of its
context outside the domain of its small, square TV box, it did so
deliberately for the sake of its weary, increasingly set-upon
audience...and not because it was too dumb to see what was going on over
in Asia.
If you're the type that sneers at something like Gomer Pyle,
U.S.M.C. because it didn't try and "teach" its audience
something--because you think real "art" is transformative and
"entertainment" is ultimately meaningless--I would direct you to the
gallery where Picasso's shattering anti-war painting, Guernica,
now hangs, having previously toured the world where millions of people
viewed it over the decades. It's certainly "art" with a message and an
intent to teach and warn...and it hasn't stopped one war, as far as I
can tally. So why should something like Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. be
attacked for doing no more or less? In the fifth season episode
Flower Power, from Bill Idelson and Harvey Miller, Gomer has to
camouflage a communications truck for a big-scale exercise. Enter three
hippies, including The Committee's Rob Reiner and Leigh French,
who can't understand why Marine Gomer's truck is choking off the
sunlight to all those pretty daisies. In a sweetly-written little scene,
Gomer and the hippies get to know each other, with some amusing asides
about materialism, before they all sing Dylan's protest song, Blowin'
in the Wind. Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.'s producers may have been
forbidden by the network to discuss Vietnam, but even the most casual,
apolitical viewer of the show back in '69 would have paused, and
understood exactly what was what, when the camera does a one-shot
of Nabors, in uniform, singing, "how many deaths will it take, till he
knows that too many people have died?" It was as understated-yet-clear a
message as the last shot of Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.. In the final
episode, Goodbye Camp Henderson, Hello Sergeant Carter, when Sgt.
Carter, relieved that Pyle won't be transferred out of his
command, shakes his true friend Gomer's hand...he realizes they're stuck
together permanently: Gomer was lacquering the Sgt.'s chair. It's a
fitting final image for one of television's most accomplished comedy
teams, in one of the best sitcoms of the 1960s.
The Video:
As I wrote in my previous reviews, it's entirely possible that episodes
have been edited for content (in seasons 2-4), most likely for
musical numbers that Nabors sings for which CBS couldn't (or wouldn't)
get legal releases. Most episodes do run at least 25 minutes,
so...it's up to you if this is a deal breaker (life's too short: don't
hold your breath that anyone is going to pony up exorbitant amounts of
money for song releases when this entire series set is selling for less
than $40 dollars on Amazon--art aside, the profit margin for a set like
this simply doesn't warrant that expenditure). Otherwise: the
fullscreen, 1.37:1 black and white (season one)/color (seasons 2-5)
transfers look very good. Image detail is pretty sharp, color
isn't bad (perhaps a bit off in values, due to age), contrast is fine,
and screen imperfections are at expected levels.
The Audio:
The Dolby Digital English mono audio tracks are fine, with very low hiss
and a decent re-recording level. English closed-captions are available.
The Extras:
The extras here, are the same ones from the season one release of
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C., back in 2006, including audio intros for that
season's episodes from Nabors. On disc one, the pilot episode for
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C., from The Andy Griffith Show, is
included. It's essential viewing to see the transition from Mayberry to
the Marines. The disc producers have also included the rare
black-and-white sales promotion pitch bumpers for the pilot, performed
by Nabors. As well, Nabors offers an interesting audio commentary for
this pilot episode. Nabors also provides an audio commentary for the
premiere episode of Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.. Nabors has lots of
stories to tell about the show, as well as emphasizing his well-known
affection and respect for the Marine Corps. Nabors comes across
extremely well here (he doesn't sound a day older than Gomer from forty
years ago), offering an extremely heart-felt, sincere thank you to his
fans at the end of the commentary. On disc two, there's another
interesting commentary from Ronnie Schell, who played Duke on the
series. A friend of Nabors, Schell also sounds exactly the same, and he
has a wealth of information packed into a short 25 minute commentary.
It's a shame we couldn't hear more from these two gifted actors. Disc
two also has a short color clip from The Lucy Show, which
features Nabors at the very end (it's more loud than funny). On disc
three, there's an undated, 11 minute interview with Nabors, conducted by
British TV personality, David Frost. It's a quick, but interesting look
at Nabors relaxing outside of his Gomer Pyle persona. And on disc five,
there's a short 9 minute clip from The Jim Nabors Hour, Nabor's
CBS variety show that followed the Gomer Pyle run. The clip
features a skit entitled The Brothers-in-Law, and features Frank
Sutton and Ronnie Schell, as well. Most alarming is watching Frank
Sutton breathing so heavily during the skit; it's not surprising when
you hear Schell, in his previous commentary, recount how Sutton smoked
18 Brazilian cigars a day. Other than that: no new extras.
Final Thoughts:
Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!--Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. is one of the
best sitcoms of the 1960s...no matter what the snooty critics, then or
now, say. Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. never received the critical
respect it deserved during its day. Perhaps Jim Nabors was too good
portraying the "knuckle headed, goldbricking, goof-off" country boy
Pyle; perhaps critics thought he wasn't really acting. Or maybe it was
the fact that the show offered simple pleasures to loyal fans, executed
by total professionals who didn't care if the critics liked them or not.
And loyal fans they were; in that neglected "fly-over" country between
New York and L.A., Jim Nabors was a TV superstar, and Gomer Pyle,
U.S.M.C. quickly became a pop culture sensation, as well as one of
the highest-rated TV programs of the 1960s. Sharp, funny writing from
the same production team of that masterpiece of the 1960s sitcom genre,
The Andy Griffith Show, and the inspired team of Jim Nabors and
Frank Sutton--a brilliant duo--make Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. must
viewing for fans of TV comedy. I'm highly, highly recommending
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.: The Complete Series.
