Summary: You women better behave yourselves, ya hear?!

We open with a woman’s voiceover looking back with fondness to her first typing class where she not only learned how to type, but also how to "get along" in a business "environment."

Ahhh yes, the joy of watching a classroom full of zomboid teenagers banging away on clattering mechanical typewriters while the narrator reminds us that the Golden Rule also applies at the office.

Scenes like these are what makes writing for my website such a joy.

Fade to later when our young narrator, Joan, has just completed her first job application and delivers it to her potential boss, Mr. Randall.

Randall glances at Joan’s application and notes that she’s a former student of Mrs. Purcell, the typing teaching. "Mrs. Purcell’s recommendation has a lot of influence here," he mentions, because, you know, large businesses always base their hiring decisions on input from high-school typing teachers.

"Can you start Monday morning," Randall abruptly asks. Joan immediately accepts the job offer.

"You know," Randall continues, "we’re a small company. Getting along with people is pretty important around here…do you think you can do that?"

Now, I’m thinking that if a guy would have said that to a young new-hire these days, he’d be smacked with a sexual harassment suit, but hey, things were simpler back then.

"Getting along is pretty important around here…heh heh."

Well, that Monday, Joan’s first day on the job, things go pretty well even though in the upcoming weeks there was "many a-night" where she had to take work home to get everything done. Yes, and I’ve spent many a-night writing up reviews of crappy news reels, do you see me complaining? (Don’t answer that.)

Man, this goes on and on and on. Horrid stuff. Joan learns to gracefully admit her mistakes, get along with everybody, and…damn. I guess I’m 0 for 2 today. I just can’t take these social reels tonight.

Conclusion: The Horror.

Summary: See how you can help Mother avoid a nervous collapse by picking up after yourself, you slob.

Open with Howard and his father, cleverly referred to as "Dad" (boy, those guys at Coronet Instructional are just too good sometimes!) slapping up hideous, floral wallpaper in the living room. As the excitement reaches its climax, i.e., will the next strip of wallpaper be straight?, in walks Big Sister, Martha with a tray of sandwiches. Lunch time, guys!

Mom, enters as well. "Who would have ever imagined that we could redecorate this room and do all the work ourselves," she gushes as she lays down a pot of coffee.

Man, this is intense!

Who would have ever imagined that we could pick wallpaper as ugly as this?

Why, everybody is so happy happy happy and "working well together" as the narrator explains. But wait! It hasn’t always been so. "Let’s take a look back last month,…"

Oh joy.

Fade to <cough>, "last month." Martha explains to the neighbor that her mother isn’t feeling so hot, so she’s trying to come up with some strategies where the whole family can pitch in and help with the housework.

"General cleaning is much easier if everyone picks up after himself," she reads aloud from her home economics book.

The camera pans across the messy living room and Martha has a fantastic insight: Why if they’d all just clean up their own mess, why, the house wouldn’t be so messy, and mom would feel better!

Huzzah!

Martha stands up to walk over and pick up a newspaper scattered across the floor and accidentally drags a lamp off a table and sends it crashing to the floor.

"Boy, a home sure is a lot of work!"

I quit.

Conclusion: Sorry, I could only make it halfway through this one. Even I have my limits.

Summary: As exciting as it sounds.

(Sorry for lack of screen shots. My copy of this video was of terrible quality. But don’t think I’d let you get away from this one just because of that!)

Do you lose sleep at night wondering if your social letters are up to snuff? Me neither.

Open with young Nora, sitting at a table struggling to write a letter to a friend. Her older brother, Wally, sits beside her writing his own letter.

"Are you done already?" she asks.

"Sure, sis. I just finished my letter to Aunt Helen and Uncle Ross." (Seriously: when’s the last time you write Uncle Ross?)

"I don’t know how you do it, Wally, you make it seem so…easy!" Sis remarks. (Uhh, hey kid, this aint rocket science, you know.)

"Walter," Sis begins before dropping the big question: "How do you write such good social letters?"

Wally begins by explaining the different types of letters and how "different letters are for different things."

Oh brother.

Screw Uncle Ross and his damn letter. I’m going to go have a Labatts.

Conclusion: Zzzzzzzzzz.

Summary: Girls just want to have fun.

Ahhh, yes, another "Young America Films" production intent on destroying all confidence and pride a young person would ever dare to have.

Open with the titular Cindy goofing around outside playing basketball with her young male friend, Dennis. (Wow! What a great name!) Alarm bells should be going off in your head as you realize that Cindy is a, <gasp>, Tomboy! Not only is she playing a "boy’s" sport, she’s wearing jeans and her shirt is <gasp!!!> untucked!

Anyway, Cindy’s mom calls her inside. As she takes her leave, her friend mentions Mary’s party

the next day. Alas, Cindy wasn’t invited but that’s ok because she "never has fun at parties anyway." (Judging from the parties I’ve seen in these freakin’ newsreels I can’t say that I blame her!)

Later that evening, Cindy asks her mom why Mary didn’t invite her. "They probably thought I wouldn’t know how to act," Cindy dejectedly murmurs as mama fiddles with her hair.

As Cindy pulls up the covers and falls asleep, an ethereal voice rouses her from her slumber. Why it’s Cindy’s "fairy godmother". (Uh, OK…)

"Sure….", Cindy suspiciously growls after seeing this woman appear out of thin air.

As it turns out, FGM says that it’s time to get Cindy "ready" if she’s going to make the party the next day.

"Oh, I wasn’t invited," says Cindy.

"Ooooo! You’ve been invited," FGM chuckles, "I’ve seen to that!" (Hmmm.)

"But the party isn’t until this afternoon," Cindy says. (Huh?! Then why the hell is she in her pajamas going to sleep? What the hell time is it?)

"OK, out of bed," FGM commands. Cindy hops out from under the covers at which time FGM comments, "Oh! What a mess!" (Damn! Those 50′s FGM didn’t sugar coat it, did they?)

Never fear, a flick of her Magic Wand, and Cindy is magically decked out in a fancy dress.

"Oh, but this isn’t my best dress," Cindy notes.

FGM reminds her that attending a party is not about showing off your clothes. Rather it’s important to

The secret to successful parties.

A wave of her wand, and FGM and Cindy teleport to Mary’s house for the big event. (I’m assuming that FGM is invisible to others but what the hell do I know.)

"I hope everyone else is here," says Cindy, "I hate to be the first one at the party."

"I don’t blame you," FGM agrees, "nobody likes to wait for the party to start." (Yeah, like she’d know about that.)

"The party doesn’t really start until everybody arrives," FGM adds as she flicks her wand and reveals the second secret in the art of successful partying:

So that’s what I’ve been doing wrong my whole life…

Even more importantly (and I know this by bitter experience):

Now she tells me.

On a serious note, FGM sternly reminds Cindy that "you can ruin a party by staying too long, and making everybody tired and bored." (Man, does that sound like my last garden party…)

As other children arrive FGM disappears leaving Cindy rambling out loud to nobody. ("I was just thinking to myself…I guess," Cindy says to her curious comrades.)

Once inside, Cindy exchanges a few words with a surprised Dennis, who is lounging against a chest of drawers beside a picture of "Whistler’s Mother" (!). (And boy, nothing says "PARTY!" like a "Whistler’s Mother" print.)

Cindy tries to explain that her FGM arranged the invitation, and as she continues chatting, FGM replaces Whistler’s mother in the painting. (Man…that was trippy.)

You saw it here first, folks.

"She’s going to help us enjoy the party," Cindy says as Dennis rubs his eyes in astonishment.

To my horror, FGM pops out of the painting but is visible only to Cindy and Dennis.

"You see, they’re setting up for a game of musical chairs," FGM laughs.

"Awww! But I don’t like musical…", Dennis begins, but before he can finish, FGM taps his hand with her wand and teleports him into position upon one of the chairs in the musical chair circle. (You will have fun, damn it!!!)

Have fun…or else!

"Join in whole heartedly to any game suggested!" scolds FGM.

Dennis takes her advice and begins racing around the chairs with the rest of the children. In his eagerness, Dennis nearly topples a table lamp. This give FGM an opportunity to present a pair of caveats:

You thought it’d be easy to have fun, didn’t you Dennis?

"Gee, thanks," Dennis says.

"Yeah, and you lost your chair too," Cindy gleefully tell him, "you’re out of the game! That’s what you get for bumping into things."

(Wow. Fun party, eh Dennis?)

Dennis laughs and tells FGM that "She’s only kidding." However, this brings up yet another important point:

We’re having some fun now, eh?

When the music starts up again, Cindy races off to rejoin the game.

"Well, what do I do?" asks Dennis, who has been reduced to a mindless piece of putty by FGM’s never ending list of regulations.

Obey. Obey. Obey.

With Cindy and Dennis successfully brainwashed, FGM takes her leave as the game of musical chairs comes to an end. Cindy wins, but it’s a close call, so she good-naturedly says it’s a tie. (Yeah, because, you know, admitting that you won when you actually did win is bad.)

"Hey, that was fun," Dennis remarks with about as much enthusiasm as a guy making a colostomy appointment.

Be a robot.

"I just hope I can remember all the rules," says Dennis with a note of genuine concern.

"That’s easy," FGM reassures him:

Just be yourself and have fun…you worthless punk.

The games continue as FGM shrinks herself down in size and watches from behind a mantle piece clock to make sure that, er, Dennis is having fun and being a nice little robot.

Just relax…oh, and have fun, damn it!

As the party winds down, cake is served which naturally gives FGM yet another freakin’ chance to pop in and chastise Cindy and Dennis.

FGM quickly turns somber. "Well, I guess you don’t need me anymore."

"Oh, yes we do!" says Cindy enthusiastically. (Dennis, unsurprisingly, doesn’t say a word.)

"You can’t see or hear fairies unless you need them," FGM informs them. (Oh, so that’s how it works.)

With a final parting reminder, FGM disappears from Cindy and Dennis’ lives…for now.

Jesus! Now I’m getting paranoid!

As you might have guessed, this horrible party experience was just a dream. When Cindy awakes, Mary’s sister is standing beside her bed with an invitation to the party. Cindy gasps when she sees that Mary’s sister is none other than FGM.

Wow, who woulda thunk it?

Conclusion: Die, Fairy God Mother, Die!

Summary: A totalitarian narrator points out every mistake, turning a dinner ‘party’ into an Orwellian nightmare!

This short film begins as most "social" news reels do: having the maid point out mistakes in a young girl’s dinner table preparations. (A napkin is out of place, the butter knife belongs on the butter dish, and so on.)

The narrator informs us that Betty is about to host her first dinner party, namely a birthday party for one of her friends.

As the guests enter we learn that Betty "has her confidence shaken and is unsure of herself…should she have preceded her

guests into the room?" Yes. These were important matters. Well, despite being shaken up before the guests are even seated, Betty charges on. Other problems, "Did she direct them to their places correctly? Should she have used place cards?" (With a guest count of 5, I wouldn’t think that place cards would be necessary, but still, the narrator is here to point out every freakin’ mistake…and if a mistake is not discovered, then the narrator is quick to create one.

Anyway, the Narrator is quick to point out that Bob opened his napkin incorrectly. Yes, you read that correctly.

The soup crackers are passed. However, Floyd took a cracker before Betty, a blunder that is quickly pointed out to the viewer. As Bob continues to eat his soup, "he notices that the others have their relish placed differently…" Bob abashedly moves his 2 carrots from his soup plate to his bread plate. "Having made the change, Bob is glad to see Betty has noticed that he corrected himself. All is well again with the party."

As the subdued guests try to enjoy themselves, the Narrator (I’ll call him Big-N from now on) butts in: "Is there a correct way to eat an olive? Shouldn’t you just pop it into your mouth and eat it?" (I’m terrified to answer the question at this point. I don’t know what is what…2+2 = 5. War = Peace. Slavery = Freedom) Thank God Floyd has a way to eat an olive correctly. Really. Thank God.

The next faux pas is commented by Dorothy. She breaks her celery before taking a bite. "Celery has always just been celery," remarks Big-N. I’m afraid those days are over, my friend. "Does it look like a smaller bite when you dip into the salt and break it into a smaller portion?" Ayeeeiiiiii!

As the meat is served, Bob struggles to decide what "implements" to use to serve it. (You would think a knife and fork would suffice…but think again buddy!) Bob slaps some meat on a plate, but it’s too much for the female guests, "A lady is not

flattered by being offered a portion a size that might appeal to a hungry lumber-jack!" Now Bob struggles to figure out if the portions he’s served are too small. (Seriously, this dude is going to have psychological problems after this party.)

"Now Betty is about to serve the salad," Big-N points out, "And some new questions are arising…" I bet they are: "What size should the salad portions be? Are they too little? Is she giving a proper assortment? As Betty passes the plate, should she say for whom the plate is intended?" (Do normal human beings really think about these things when you dishing out a salad for God’s sake?)

"[Bob] seems to remember that it is correct to use his knife for cutting lettuce or tomato if they are served in pieces that are too big for a proper bite. What do you think? Is he wrong? Or is he right?" Another issue is brought up: "Should you butter your vegetables with your fork or your knife?"

As Bob begins to eat, the Narrator makes a list of his blunders:

"The waving of his knife and fork about. Talking with food in his mouth. Monopolizing the conversation. But it is an exciting story…about a trip up into the mountains…and then…Uh Oh!!!"

Yes, Bob has committed the greatest crime of all in this twisted nightmarish world: He’s spilled his milk.

Big-N says that both Bob and Betty should be embarrassed for his behavior. Why Betty? I don’t know. Who knows anymore. As long as somebody feels awkward Big-N is satisfied.

As "Betty regains her poise [!!]", Bernie reaches for some more jelly to his roll. "Was there anything in the way he helped himself to more jelly?", hints Big-N. "How about the way he holds his knife and fork? Or the way he cuts his meat…and takes

it to his mouth with his left hand?"

"Betty holds the fork in her left hand when cutting the meat, then passes the fork to her right hand for placing it in her mouth. This is ‘Zig Zag Eating’."

This is really creepy stuff here!

The meat course is finished with no further mishaps.

Hilariously, Big-N says, "Formal parties like this are really enjoyable when one isn’t afraid of doing the wrong thing." Yeah, right! I’m afraid to blink my eyes after watching this! I’m scared s***tless to take a sip of water!

As Bob blows out the birthday cake candles, Big-N breaks in again, "Serving the meat course upset Bob…cutting the cake has its difficulties too."

"Cutting and serving would seem to be a pleasure…", says Big-N. Yes, I would agree. In a normal universe devoid of omniscient narrators and paranoid guests.

"Our party is ending…As you think of Betty and Bob, and their problems, think of your own manners…"

Yes. I’ll be sure to do that.

Conclusion: Utlra-paranoid guests and a Narrator that makes your hair stand on end. Pass the thorazene.

Summary: Never fear! This informative news reel will save your next buffet dinner!

Our favorite 1940′s housewife, June, is preparing for her upcoming buffet supper, and is wisely getting advice from her elderly grandmother. The following important issues are now discussed:

"What foods to offer? How it’s to be served? And what preparations she should make for arranging a buffet supper table."

Our narrator informs us that June has all the food ready before the guests arrive. (Hmmm, you need a newsreel to tell you that? If you can’t even figure out that you need the food ready before people come, then you have bigger problems than just "buffet dinners"!) June and Grandma walk around the bare "supper table" look 2 generals pondering a tactical battle map.

In case you’re wondering what the hell the difference between a "buffet supper" meal and a regular "supper" meal is, the narrator tells us that a "buffet supper" is served later in the evening. (Aren’t you relieved? Didn’t people have other things to worry about in 1946?) Furthermore, "chairs will not be needed at the table since the guests will eat informally; eating wherever they wish to seat themselves."

Am I really watching this? Man, I have got to get a life.

"The table cloth should hang squarely and smoothly, with the edges hanging evenly." (Help. my…brain…shutdown…)

On to silverware and decorations. WHEEE!!!

June takes a pair of glass candlesticks and is about to put them on the table when Grandma takes them from her. Our narrator explains: "June wants candles on the table, and has to be reminded [June, you idiot!] that this type of candlestick would be good if she were using candles as the primary light for the supper. But since the candles will not be the principle light, they should not be placed on the candle at all."

"However her centerpiece of fruits would be the proper choice. It is attractive without being obtrusive."

Ayeeeeiiiii! I can’t take it. I’m just going to type what I hear as my brains slowly shuts down:

"Staggering the forks helps the guests to pick one up easily."

"The buffet meal as a whole is designed to be a simple meal to be eaten simply."

"A single hot dish is offered and kept warm in a casserole. It may be a meat pie, macaroni and cheese, or whatever you prefer."

"The rolls that June are serving are kept warm in a napkin and they have already been buttered in the kitchen."

"On the buffet are the drinks: milk and punch. For older people there would be tea or coffee."

OK, I’m going to fight this. I will beat this newsreel!

"Now everything is ready, and we can be certain that each guest will be fully aware, not only of the food, but of the attractiveness and convenience of the table arrangement."

Brain. Shutdown. I. Quit.

Conclusion: Get a freakin’ life and just eat already! What the hell planet are these people from?

Summary: Man, I wish I lived back in the days before smoking was bad for you.

A man runs down a busy city street trying to make his bus, but misses it.

Damn. Now I guess we have to sit through a commercial.

From out of nowhere a blast of cigarette smoke blows into the guy’s face. He smiles, because hey, smoking wasn’t bad for you back then.

It turns out that the smoke has come from a Newport billboard hanging on the wall beside the unlucky commuter. A dame in a not-so-revealing 1960′s swimsuit waves from the sign.

TV magic!

A catchy jingle begins as the woman starts to sing…and hey, I’ll let the lyrics speak for themselves:

"Newport tastes freeeesher…tastes better too.

Newport tastes freeeesher…tastes better too.

Than….any other menthol cigarette!"

and on and on and on.

and on and on and on.

And…my God…what I wouldn’t give for an ice cold Labatts right about now.

Conclusion: A musical cigarette commercial?

Enjoy the menthol flavor of Newport. I guess you could also jump in front of a bus.

Summary: Ahhh, remember all the times you sat around enjoying a cold Labatts? Me neither.

Open with a man, attired in a drab grey suit, sitting alone at a table enjoying a, yes, you guessed it: Labatts.

"When you have a Labatts," the narrator informs us, "you have an adventure!"

Through the magic of Stop The Camera, Sit Still, Have Woman Sit Next To Man, Start Camera Again, a woman "magically" appears beside him. This lucky fellow’s boring suit also "magically" transforms into a Pee-Wee Herman-esque red smoking jacket.

Wow. The magic of Labatts, eh?

"Enjoy import quality at American prices," coos the narrator as this guy coyly fills his date’s glass with, yes, you guessed it again: ice cold Labatts.

"Have an adventure…have a Labatts."

Conclusion: After this uninspired commercial, I think I’d rather watch paint dry than have a Labatts.

Summary: A nostalgic look at how things once were…"One with all the calculator know-how you’ll probably ever need."

I’m not sure of the date of this reel, but it’s a freakin’ silent movie, so can it be from the 30′s? Earlier? I tried to find the date of this one on the Internet but to no avail. Feel free to drop me a line if anybody knows out there.

OK, open with a slide that informs us that:

The aforementioned Mr. Newhouse is now shown staring longingly at a display of…some sort of electrical contraption. I have no idea what it is. It could be anything from a dishwasher to an atom bomb. Oh, ok, they’re heaters…sorry "Electric heating devices," as Newhouse explains to his friend that pops up and gives him a warm handshake.

"I’m interested in these electric heating devices…"

The two men continue to gesticulate and "talk" even though everything is completely silent. Now, ok, I’ve had a few beers (give me a break: could you sit and write reviews of these things completely sober?!!), but man, this silence is really weird. Newhouse’s friend puts forth a cryptic offer…

Please. Don’t ask me. I just review here.

There’s about a million images running through my head at this point, and most of them are giving me the creeps. Nevertheless, Newhouse takes his leave along with his friend to get into his "electric". (I’m guessing that’s the guys car…did they have electric cars back then? Master Proof Reader Sean Ledden seems to believe that they did. I’ll take his word for it.)

The two friends go outside, plop into Other Guy’s car, and take off down the street. A new slide greets our eyes:

Ahh, yes. Who doesn’t enjoy a charming electric recreation from time to time, eh?

Newhouse and Other Guy, and to make things easier, I hereby dub him Mr. Electric, arrive and Mr. Electric’s house and go inside.

Well, I spoke too soon. Mr. Electric, I hereby dub the Mr. Wise.

<Insert your own joke here.>

Newhouse and the Wise’s chat for a while, and really, what’s the point when it’s a silent film?

Anyhoo, the tour of the Wise estate begins. The eager trio ascend the stairs and enter the first room.

The first item on display? Why the everyday key-driven vacuum cleaner:

Honey…have you seen the keys to the vacuum cleaner?

Sure enough, Wise inserts a key into the wall, turns it, and the vacuum cleaner comes to life. I’m assuming. There’s no sound remember.

The Vacuum Cleaner.

Another turn of the key and the colossal vacuum cleaner shuts off.

Let’s move to the next item, shall we?

Why yes, it’s Mrs. Wise’s electric sewing machine. Happy Happy Joy Joy.

Let the good times roll.

(Damn. A Labatts would taste really good about now.)

More conversation, sort of. I mean, I can’t hear a damned thing, so can’t we just get on with it? Mrs. Wise eventually sits down and sews something as Newhouse watches in amazement. (Ack.)

After a demonstration of the electric iron (don’t ask), Mrs. Wise tells her husband to show Newhouse the "bathroom outfit" while she goes downstairs.

In the bathroom Wise shows Newhouse…something. I have no idea what it is, but it is attached to a long cord so it’s either an electric shaver, a sheep shearer, or a vibrator. God knows.

Mr. Wise announces: "The electric kitchen is the pride of our household."

Boy, this is going to be fun.

More silent demonstrations of kitchen appliances; ovens, water heaters, waffle irons (?).

I’m really struggling to stick this one out, but I’m going to try and hang in there because it’s actually pretty surreal from time to time.

Mrs. Wise demonstrates her new Electrical Appliance. (Whatever the hell it is.)

After showing Mr. Newhouse a gadget with lots of spinning gears and wheels that does something to something, they go into the next room and chat with a maid who is busy ironing clothes with an electric iron. (Hey! No fair! They already showed an iron. But it’s still soooooo exciting.)

Mr. Wise takes Newhouse into his workshop to demonstrate the miracle of the soldering iron. OK, I may be freaking out here, but watching 20 seconds of erotic silent footage depicting molting solder dripping from a soldering iron is just too much to take right now.

Dear lord…please let this newsreel end…

Ahh…time to move on to the "chafing-dish luncheon".

People eat. People say things…but I can’t hear what they’re saying, so screw it.

People make toast in electric toasters. Coffee in electric coffee makers….

After lunch, Mrs. Wise tends to the baby while the men enjoy, and I kid you not, "electric lighted cigars". (!)

By the way, the electric cigar lighter is as big as a freaking telephone, so that’s just gotta be safe to have laying around the house.

Upstairs, Mrs. Wise warms up something or other with an electric something or other…and…oh screw this.

Conclusion: Pretty wierd…but would make a cool Nine Inch Nails video.

Summary: A nostalgic look at how things once were…"One with all the calculator know-how you’ll probably ever need."

Open with a strange montage of voiceovers bitching about the costs of "paper work". Why, I wonder if there is any product out there that can alleviate our woes?

"There’s gotta be an answer!" a voice pleads.

"Introducing: The Answer"…yes, pull back camera to show the Sharp Calculator…all 8-digits of computer power at your fingertips…"A really fast thinker!" we’re informed.

Yes, marvel at the "world’s smallest electronic calculator": the size of a dollar bill.

Oh, and you’d better hurry and take advantage of this one time low price: $345 (!!!!)

At that price, I’ll take two.

Conclusion: You know you’re getting old when you actually remember these things…