The Baltimore Sun du lieu suivant : Baltimore, Maryland • 25

Mdaj.oetoberi.ii7i Entertainment Trends Comics Bi 'Norman' is a laugh-a-line film omedy i By R. H. GARDNER ny one that the writers take full advantage of. For example, Ben is astonished upon being told by Garson how many of his idols-Caesar, Socrates, Stephen Foster-practiced homosexuality. Looking through a book on the subject, Ben stops short at a photograph.

"Oh, no!" he moans. "Spiro Agnew!" "That's the author," explains Garson quickly. "He does look something like Agnew, doesn't he?" Mr. Foxx is a marvelous comic when not giving vent to his penchant for filth, and his portrayal of the father is one of the reasons for the film's success. Pearl istered in a Mexican hotel under the name of "Mr.

and Mrs. Smith," is almost too much. The rest of the story describes In wildly farcical terms how he comes to adjust to the situation. My early reference to "Abie's Irish Rose" was not a random one. For the portrayal of the Jewish father in that play was no more a stereotype than the portrayal of the homosexual Garson here.

Sensitive gay people will doubtless be offended by it which is unfortunate, because the relationship that develops between Garson and Ben is a genuinely fun Bailey is almost as effective as the wayward mother. Dennis Dugan's perform-ince as Garson is tasteful, despite the stereotyped nature of the role, and Michael Warren and Baltimore-born Tamara Dobson are both fine as Norman and stylish hooker respectively. Last but not least, there's Wayland Flowers, the remarkable ventriloquist who, together with his puppet Madame, kept Painters Mill audiences howling with during his Baltimore engagement last season. His cabaret bit alone is sufficient reason for seeing That You?" 1 1 uj i OMf i oooo; 1 1 jl jiu w.o. I -xISIiK di Writing to fill a void for in That You?" House still has problems Tamara Dobson and Redd Foxx Eater's digest The Eager By ELIZABETH LARGE The Eager House, 15 West Eager street; open every day for lunch and credit cards accepted.

You've probably seen or heard the advertisements for the "new" Eager House lately and perhaps wondered what's happened to what used to be one of Baltimore's fine restaurants. 1 The Eager House, after a period of slow but steady decline, has recently changed hands. The new owners-while determined to improve it and make it a success seem to be keeping the character of the restaurant much the same. The Eager House is livelier and busier than it used to be, particularly in the evening. It's still Baltimore's expense-account restaurant par excellence.

A majority of the customers seemed to be businessmen entertaining clients the evening we were there, but that may change as more people realize that the Eager House now has live music every night and a postage-stamp dance floor. The restaurant is just as expensive as it always was. Except for a few additions, the menu seems much the same; the emphasis is on charcoaled steaks, lobster and Chesapeake seafood. Whether you'll enjoy dinner there depends on what you want for that kind of money. I want perfectly prepared, imaginative food and flawless service.

You still won't get those; but plenty of people are happy with a couple of good, big drinks followed by an enormous slab of prime rib, for instance. There's nothing wrong with that. This kind of dinner is the Eager House's forte, as it always has been. I didn't see the play That You?" but I can't believe it was as funny as the film, now at three area theaters, or it would have lasted longer than 10 days on Broadway. Of course, the humor is not far above the level of "Abie's Irish Rose," another funny play which had a somewhat longer run when it opened several decades ago, but it is no less effective for thai Indeed, as adapted by director George Schlatter, Ron Clark and Sam Bobrick from the Messrs.

Clark's and Bobrick's original playscript and performed by Redd Foxx at the head of a talented cast, it adds up to about a laugh a line. A pretty fair average. A brief synopsis should give you an idea. Foxx plays a Tucson dry-cleaner named Ben who comes to visit his son Norman in Los Angeles when a crisis develops in his home. His wife of more than a quarter of a century has just run away with his brother.

To add insult to injury, they've used his car. Ben arrives at Norman's plush apart-ment in a state bordering on collapse. How, he keeps asking himself, could she have done it after all those wonderful years working like a dog in the ing establishment? Maybe, suggests Norman, it was love. "No," says Ben. "I think it was something deeper." Meanwhile, Ben is noting Norman's purple drapes and wondering why he switched his career to interior decorating.

It is not, however, until he meets Norman's roommate Garson that the truth begins to dawn on him that Norman is a practicing homosexual. The realization, coming on top of the discovery that his wife and brother are at that moment reg about raw seafood and that bothered me. Finally, my cocktail sauce was too salty to use (this may well have been a onetime occurence). My husband's vichyssoise ($1) was worse. It should have been a velvety puree See EAGER, B2, Col.

5 A.M.-P.M. If it's no fun at first, By QIAPLIN CHAPLIN We really worked at liking this place. It's so good-looking, and in such a good location, and the owners have such good intentions about being a credit to the city, and the people at the door are so good-natured, that we went back a fourth time even though we had had a rotten time there the first three times. And it worked. We finally had a decent time at Bumpers.

If only good times expended on good looks we would have had a good time every time we were there, because Bumpers has got to be one of the prettiest discos in town. It was designed and is partly owned by architect John Clark, who designed and partly owns Longfellow's just down the block. Clark did his new place dramatically. Colors throughout Bumpers are black and silver, as in leather and chrome, because Bumpers means cars as well as people doing the dance. So chairs are bucket seats, door handles are small steering wheels, the bars are bumpered, and so forth.

Upstairs and down are united by an elegant double staircase that seems to float without visible means of support In the middle of everything. People walking up and down the stairs seem to become part of the decor, part of the show, which is in the proper discotheque spirit of making patrons Into performers. And its' fine with Bumpers' patrons, go again and youth Richard Peck "If I had, I'd be in another line of work today. And, fortunately, I never had one of those creative writing teachers who say, 'Write what you 'Write from your 'Express Becoming an author grew out of his job as a teacher of grades seven, eight and nine, when he found that there simply was very little decent reading matter for adolescents. He gave up didn't want to, but It seemed to me that it had begun to turn Into something that looked weirdly like psychiatric social work-a field in which I was not trained or interested.

"I turned in my pension and hospitalization plan and my attendance book which was, come to think of it, the first work of fiction I ever wrote. "I moved my typewriter out into the garden and began writing a novel to some of the people I'd left behind in the classroom." In writing for adolescents, Mr. Peck said, he follows certain rigid guidelines: The youth culture has to be realistically portrayed. Kids simply won't read a book revealing unfamiliarity or misunderstanding. The main character must not be "typical." Typical teen-agers, like typical adults, make for stories that are dull.

Heshe should be a renegade or an outcast and he should take a trip where he is exposed to the real world out beyond the teen-age cocoon. An adolescent novel should, in other words, be an exercise in It should be an escape from the humdrum, boxed-in, impotent existence that is the teen-ager's lot. Dialogue should not be "realistic." Teen-agers' slang varies too much from region to region; and besides, its range is far too limited for expressing anything. What is necessary is to make up a dialect that sounds informal, yet is understandable. These, said Mr.

Peck, are the standard guidelines of the trade. In addition, he has his own code of behavior for his characters that he adheres to. For example, he won't let parents take the rap for everything. "I find that offensive. Kids are getting enough of that everywhere else.

I don't care to add to it. "I don't have my kids defying their parents, but I don't have them turning to their parents for advice either. Mostly they want to help their parents. "My kids are pretty independent. They find their own reasons for doing things.

And at the end, though I don't go for happy endings, I have them moving forward, poised and ready for the next episode that life brings their way." The big difficulty with the teen-age market, he said, is the enormous number of young people who simply can't read. "I'm appalled at how many classes these days consist of nothing but discussion. "Recently 1 lectured to a group that seemed to know my books well and I was overjoyed. Then I discovered the teacher had been reading them aloud to the class." He said he wasn't a bit interested in portraying his own life on the page. "My novels are aimed at my audience.

I've done a lot of market research to find out what worries kids. They're concerned about crime in school, about the perils of popularity and about the attention that the troublemakers get. "That's what I write novels about" inr-ii ft I 1 Is Ifs 11 ll is that you're ail convinced that nothing Interesting ever happens to you, and getting kidnaped by the Mafia is exactly what you would love to have happen." The tension is broken, and the audience now breaks into appreciative giggles and smiles as Richard Peck continues with his performance. Mr. Peck is an author, a writer of novels for adolescents.

And although his juvenile works are unlikely to gain him immortality as creator of the Great American Novel, they are keeping him gainfully and interestingly employed. His publisher (Viking) prints every word of fiction that he writes and clamors for more. Besides in the United States and Canada, his works are distributed in the United Kingdom, Australia and New Zealand. The novel about the kidnaped girl, called "Through a Brief Darkness," has recently been bought by Disney Studios for making into a movie; and some of his books in paperback have sold half a million copies. Last week Mr.

Peck appeared at the North Point branch of the Enoch Pratt Free Library before an audience of adolescents and their librarians to talk about his works. Later, in a Interview, he talked a little about himself and about some of the problems of writing for adolescents. "I stumbled into this bewildering field by accident," he said. "I never was one of those young people determined to be a writer at all costs. I didn't write a 600-page autobiographical novel in the bowels of Greenwhich Village at the age of 20.

away. Again not a smile to be seen. The third time we were there, hardly anyone else was, and sure as shootin' they weren't smiling about it But the fourth time we went everything was O.K. The concentration of platform shoes and nylon bodyshirts was a little high, but people did seem to be having fun. We counted several smiles and even a laugh or two.

We may even go back a fifth time. Bumpers, 810 N. Charles street, 727-7772 Hours: 8.30 P.M.-2 A.M. every night Prices: $2 cover charge on Friday and Saturday; cover charge varies during the week. Average drink $1.50.

Food: None served in Bumpers, but during the warm months the upstairs floor opens onto a terrace where Sas-cha's Creperie serves crepes until 2 for $15045. By ISAAC REHERT He stands tall and slim and straight in front of his audience; and from his composure, from the way that they laugh or gasp or applaud in just the right places, it is clear he has them eating out of his hand. He is holding up a book, a book that he himself wrote; and he is telling what it is about, how he came to write it and why he thinks they might enjoy reading it. Some of them interrupt to shout, with enthusiasm and pride, that they have already read it. That's fine.

He goes on with his tale of how he came to write the book. It is a story about a sixth grade girl who doesn't want to believe that her father is a member of the Mafia. Her father doesn't want her to know it, either. But as a criminal, he has lots of enemies; and to get a hold over him, they kidnap the girl. "What happens to her, how she deals with these gangsters, and with her own unwillingness to face up to the truth -that's what the book is about.

"It's a fast-moving mystery, the kind of book I know you'll enjoy. Because I write stories about people just like you. "Not necessarily the way you are, but the way you'd like to be." He pauses a moment as a puzzled whisper spreads across the room. "I know that your parents and other adults will protest that none of you would care to be kidnaped by the Mafia. "But," and a confident, knowing smile crosses his face, "I know and you know who are the kind of carefully combed, deodorized and dressed young folks who plan on looking and being looked at when they go out of an evening.

In fact, they're so busy looking at each other upstairs, where the dance floor is, that a tight crowd of onlookers blocks the top of that elegant staircase. This can give an attack of vertigo or at least impatience to anyone who just wants to forge through to the upstairs bar. But enough already with how the place Is set up. More important: How come we didn't enjoy ourselves the first three times we went to Bumpers? The first time we felt as though we had wandered into a singles jungle where the law was hunt or be hunted and survival of the flippest. There wasn't a smile to be seen.

The second time the clientele was half black and half white and each half seemed to be wishing the other half would go 4 iZ 5i 1. ''jA i mi' mi i in i yi JWr wim 4' "I i y- 7 ft I I I1 i 1 1 I 3 St. A i WW 1 3 fi--fe4- ii Miiinii.i..iuji. it nf i 1 1 I I I I i i 4 'if I The bar-lounge area at the entrance of the restaurant has been completely redone. The evening we were there, most of the tables were filled with people who wanted to eat in an informal, nightclubish atmosphere.

The maitre d'hotel, however, led us back to the dining room that used to be called the Crows Nest. It's now the Tall Ships Room. Nothing has been drastically changed; the room still has its Early American nautical look and the waitresses still wear sailor suits. The restrooms are still marked Buoys and Gulls. But the dining room looks brighter, with new murals and carpeting.

The decor may not be wildly exciting, but it's restful and comfortable. After we were seated, all sorts of things were brought to our table: raw vegetables and pickles, crackers, a plump loaf of wonderful hot, crusty marbled rye. Any restaurant proud of its beef that puts a pepper grinder on the table, as the Eager House does, gets high marks from me. On the mimus side, our waitress disappeared for 15 minutes when we ordered half a bottle of wine instead of drinks before dinner. And then came back to tell us they didn't have it The Eager House offers all the usual seafood first courses, soups and a few others.

The most startling was the shrimp cocktail for the most interesting, es-cargots in mushroom caps. I started, as I imagine many people do at the Eager House1, with oysters on the half-shell and I was disappointed. They just weren't as sweet and plump and flavorful as those us us lucky enough to live near the Chesapeake Bay usually get. They hadn't been chilled; only the bottoms, resting on ice, were cold. I'm finicky Mackin and Linda Ellerbee, NBC news correspondents based in Washington.

Miss Pauley will turn 26 October 31. After graduation from Indiana University with a political science major, she returned to her hometown of Indianapolis in September, 1972, as a reporter and later as a weekend anchor at WISH-TV. On the air, Miss Pauley reports the news with an affable bounce, but her accent is so much like that of Barbara Walters that it frequently has been suggested that she emulates the New Yorker. Last September, she was chosen by NBC after a national search to be the first woman to co-anchor the evening news at WMAQ-TV in Chicago full-time, at a salary of $55,000. Her selection was part of an unsuccessful effort to boost the station's rating for its evening news broadcasts.

She co-anchored the station's 5 P.M. and 10 P.M. weeknight news programs with Floyd Kalber, who this summer became the Today show's new newscaster. "I saw her work in Chicago," Miss Walters said when asked about the choice of Miss Pauley for the Today job. "I think she is very attractive, personable and good." But Miss Walters said she considered her place had bsen taken by Mr.

Brokaw, whom she said no one had called "the next Barbara Walters." That kind of comparison, she said, is "never done with a man." Pauley may succeed Walters ji i New York (AP) NBC, seeking a permanent female co-host to replace Barbara Walters on its Today show, apparently has chosen Jane Pauley, a Chicago newscaster whose career began only four years ago, according to reports yesterday. But network sources said Miss Pauley, 25, who co-anchors a news show at NBC-owned WMAQ-TV in Chicago, and her agent still are negotiating her Today contract and no agreement has been signed. NBC, while saying Miss Pauley is a leading contender for the Today job, declined to say if it definitely had chosen her for the position. It said an announcement on who will be the regular female co-anchor may be made today or early next week. Miss Pauley, contacted in Chicago, declined comment.

In apparently choosing Miss Pauley, NBC will be ending an on-air talent search that began early in June when Barbara Walters left Today to co-anchor ABC's evening news with Harry Reasoner. Miss Walters goes on the air at ABC Monday. While Tom Brokaw, 36, NBC's former White House correspondent, took over as host of Today last month, the slot for a female co-host has been filled only on a temporary basis so far. Among those filling in have been Betty Furness, consumer affairs reporter at New York's WNBC-TV, and Catherine j. fc.

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