Academy of the Underrated

As a kind of follow-up to this tirade against those who take great satisfaction in pointing out how everything you love is overrated, I offer this counterpoint...

The Urban Bourbon Academy of the Underrated

And by “underrated” I mean, of course, that which has been insufficiently appreciated by me. Thus, the Academy is meant to serve as both a mea culpa and a vehicle of recompense to those for whom I have not shown adequate respect, or have unfairly berated. Let the record be set straight here and now.

And so, I give you the Academy's inaugural class of inductees:

1. Randy Newman. Oh, how I despise the song “I Love L.A.” — it's a top-fiver on the mute-button list, possibly second only to “Walking on Sunshine”. I'm not a fan of “Short People” either (and that's not because it takes a bad hair day to push me over 5’6). I did like “I Love to See You Smile” from the film Parenthood, but alas, I fear that overexposure has pushed that one over to the dark side as well.

Randy's voice now triggers an instacringe reaction in me that requires a manual override — and the truth is, I do like the songs “You Can Leave Your Hat On” and “Mama Told Me Not to Come” and “Burn On” (the appropriately woeful theme song to Major League). What's more, for years I have mistakenly and unfairly held Randy Newman responsible for the Randy Bachman song “Taking Care of Business” — another groan-inducer.

Lest we forget, Mr. Newman is an accomplished composer of memorable film scores (including Pleasantville and both Toy Story movies), and holds the record for consecutive Oscar noms without a win. But one particular bit of scoring puts him over the top — and that, of course, is The Natural. Is it even possible to feel that even jolt of your bat connecting squarely with a baseball, or to hear the echo of that perfectly resonant crack, or to follow the arcing trajectory of a towering moonshot, and not subconsciously hum that majestic anthem? Ba-DUMMMMMM.... Ba-DUM-DUM-DUMMMMMM...

Yes, Randy Newman makes the Academy's first cut on the strength of six perfect notes blasted by a French horn.

2. Dean Stockwell. He's often remembered as the hologram guy on Quantum Leap (I guess TV just has that effect). Beverly Hills Cop 2 usually pops into my head when I see him, and that's just not fair. Dean Stockwell has one of the longest-running and most-prolific film/TV careers of anyone still active in Hollywood (anyone not named Mickey Rooney, anway). He may very well be film's most famous “son” — having in his early years played the progeny of William Powell and Myrna Loy, Gregory Peck, Katharine Hepburn and Ralph Richardson, to name only a few.

He also played a cold-blooded, murdering intellectual in Complusion (not sure if he was the Leopold or the Loeb, but for Rope fans, his was the Farley Granger role). He was a concerned, sympathetic brother to Harry Dean Stanton in Paris, Texas; a truly creepy and memorable transvestite who sings “In Dreams” into a lightbulb in Blue Velvet; a corrupted doctor who wore the bad moustache of treason in Dune; and notably, was one of the few actors to play someone other than himself in the massive ensemble The Player (he played a Hollywood agent with the relish of someone who has spent 50 years in the company of Hollywood agents).

Stockwell has received one Oscar nomination (as a supporting actor in Married to the Mob), and for four consecutive years received both Emmy and Golden Globe nominations (for yes, Quantum Leap). He's one of those actors who comes across as completely at ease, and if I'm not mistaken, mildly amused. And there's no telling where he'll pop up next: Most recently, he played a priest-who-surprise!-is-actually-a-Cylon on the superb season finale of Battlestar Galactica. Which would explain how he made it onto this Academy ballot.

3. Strawberry ice cream. Unfairly marginalized as a second-class citizen in the Neapolitan triumvirate. Often included as a token “3rd party” candidate among milkshake flavors. Largely ignored by vanilla-chocolate traditionalists, and dismissed as pedestrian by the Chunky Monkey-Chubby Hubby set. A critical and oft-overlooked component of any proper banana split. Go to a Baskin-Robbins and order a single scoop of unadorned strawberry — your server will give you a Gladys Kravitz look.

4. Martian Manhunter. J'onn J'onzz was a founding member of the Justice League of America. He was right there from day one, pulling his weight in the battle against Starro the Conqueror. (Did Superman and Batman bother to show up for that one? I think not.) As a shape-shifting, mind-reading Martian stranded on Earth, he could have had the run of our planet. Instead, he chose to fight crime in the unassuming guise of a police detective.

By far the most thoughtful and morally grounded member of the JLA, he was completely ignored when that group was reimagined in the 1970s cartoon Superfriends (which makes no sense — shapeshifters and Martians make great cartoon fodder, certainly better material than a guy who talks to fish). Despite being a lifetime JLA fan, I knew virtually nothing of this character until only a few years ago.

Darwyn Cooke helped set things aright when he made Martian Manhunter one of the primary characters in his superb series DC: The New Frontier (second only to a pre-lantern Hal Jordan). I still can't believe this guy lost his roster spot to a giant Apache and a purple monkey.

5. Yellow. The color of cowardice, urine, jaundice, pollution, danger, quarantine, exploitive journalism, pornography, construction zones, the 1970s, and Scut Farkas's eyes. Despite being a primary color, yellow was forced to give up its seat in the additive three-color model to green, and had to settle for a partnership with second-stringers cyan and magenta on the less-glamorous subtractive-model squad.

The Pittsburgh Pirates remain the only baseball team to wear primarily yellow, and if you ask them, they'll tell you it's gold. Yellow has fared better in the NBA, favored by the Sonics, Lakers, and Kings — though only the Kings wear a true, non-gold shade of yellow.

Maus painted our guest room yellow this weekend. It's really quite nice. Maybe it's time to be nice to yellow again.