TV Books Make It Possible to Channel Surf at the Beach

Now you can even take the tube to the beach, in the form of some major summer reading fun. Three new hardcover books about television offer can’t-put-’em-down browsing pleasures.

David Bianculli’s “Dictionary of Teleliteracy” (Continuum, $29.95) even delivers the bonus of instant parlor-game inspiration. Subtitled “Television’s 500 Biggest Hits, Misses and Events,” this A-to-Z survey of “indelible television memories” will have you debating your own particular choices in no time.

Like, what is “Wonder Woman” doing here? Or “Huckleberry Hound”? Why is “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” missing? Or “My So-Called Life”? Where’s that infamous Robert Reed sex-change episode of “Medical Center”? And can you believe how rude Bianculli is about “The Brady Bunch”? His entry begins, “How I hated this show.”

That’s the kind of breezy writing inside that’s belied by the bland ketchup-and-mustard colored cover. Strip it off, and dive into naked glee, as Bianculli--who made the case for taking the tube seriously in his previous book, “Teleliteracy”--now gets goofy. His trademark puns fly fast and furious. (On Steve Allen’s “Meeting of Minds” historical-debate dramas: “It was often difficult to de Sade who was right.”)

And Bianculli, who writes about TV for the New York Daily News, cheats to get more than the requisite 500 happenings in: While the book contains that number of entries, you’ll find Ed Ames’ legendary tomahawk throw with Johnny Carson cited under the “Daniel Boone” and “The Tonight Show” entries, and the renowned ‘80s “dramedy” series “Frank’s Place” inside the “WKRP” listing.

One thing leads to another; you won’t read this book straight through. “The Simpsons” listing mentions “Twin Peaks,” sending you to “The Patty Duke Show” and “Northern Exposure.” Some entries are comprehensive--”The Tonight Show” is the longest at six pages, and “The Smothers Brothers Show” is a three-page mini-history lesson on ‘60s controversy--while the surprise entry “The McLean Stevenson Show” is two words (“Just kidding”).

There’s serious stuff, too--the moon landing, the Olympics, the Kennedy assassinations--and events that aren’t so obvious, like Jerry Lewis’ Labor Day telethons.

You won’t be debating what’s not in Jon Burlingame’s new book about TV music, though, because it’s got everything, including, I think, the sound made by the kitchen sink. In “TV’s Biggest Hits” (Schirmer Books, $25), not only will you learn that the “Man From U.N.C.L.E.” and “Mission: Impossible” themes were both written in 5/4 time (“There is something unpredictable about 5/4,” says “M:I” guy Lalo Schifrin), you’ll also discover which series theme first used a Moog synthesizer (“Ironside”).

If anything, there is too much information in Burlingame’s impeccably researched tome. It’s crammed with musical facts, footnotes, biographical data--but also, lucky for us tone-deaf types, tons of juicy anecdotes about the making of our favorite tunes.

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Burlingame has interviewed everybody in the TV music business, and the quotes are priceless. Dominic Frontiere wrote his famous “Branded” march as a joke and still thinks it was the “worst piece of music” ever. Alexander Courage added a woman’s soaring soprano to his “Star Trek” theme for Gene Roddenberry “because he was quite a sexpot and anything that had to do with a woman’s voice was just right for him.” Vic Mizzy not only wrote, played and sang the creepy, kooky “Addams Family” song, but remembers that during filming of the finger-snapping visuals he advised John Astin to stride like Groucho Marx and Carolyn Jones to skitter across the floor to match his music.

There’s plenty of intriguing analysis of TV characters (Peter Falk’s Columbo appearances feature no background theme, says composer Billy Goldenberg, because “he is his own music”). And musical styles (Henry Mancini’s “Peter Gunn” introduced jazz, Mike Post’s “Rockford Files” added a pop sensibility). And theme motivations (the story-setting lyrics of “Gilligan’s Island,” the quirky rhythms of “Seinfeld” that support the star’s stand-up patter).

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Robert J. Thompson’s “Television’s Second Golden Age: From ‘Hill Street Blues’ to ‘ER,’ ” (Continuum, $27.50) focuses on 10 “quality” dramas of the ‘80s (and into the ‘90s), including “Cagney & Lacey,” “Moonlighting” and “Twin Peaks.”

Thompson teaches at Syracuse University, and his book is smart, scholarly and rich with context. It’s also a gracefully written grabber overflowing with affection and canny detail. In particular, the “St. Elsewhere” chapter is an absolute revelation--20-plus pages engagingly making the case that this MTM hospital series may be the medium’s zenith of “artistic sophistication.”

Sure, it was compelling TV--but who recognized the scope of the plot density almost imperceptibly layered into this comedic drama? Guest characters from the first season would pop up again in the fourth. And to portray the aging Dr. Auschlander’s mental deterioration over an entire season, writer Tom Fontana (now doing “Homicide”) created offhand references to time-specific events throughout his lifetime and laid them into episodes in reverse chronological order: “You could see him going bit by bit backward in time,” says Fontana.