The White Satin Miter

Hollywood, August 20.
Wanda Wannamaker reporting:
O.K. Kids! Get ready for the sleeper of 1974. One hundred minutes of music and dancing with a little bit of that old time religion thrown in to uplift spirits as well as hearts. The name of this cinematic gem is The Signal Red Cadillac. It is showing at a theater near you. How many of you fans would recognize signal red if you saw it? Ask your favorite cosmetician. Better still, if you are into lipstick, try some! The characters? Ten to one you never heard of any of them but you soon will. All are destined for celluloid immortality. My pick of the pack is Cherry Cokeland. She's a cute little brunette country-girl canary whose quirky voice reminds me of Ella Mae Morse. When Cherry-baby wails out the Bordello Blues, you'll wish you had listened to what your mother told you when you were a little girl wearing pigtails and pink panties under your mini jumper. And dig Aztec Sam, the big, bad, Mexican used-car dealer. Would you buy a red Cadillac from him? Susan Shams would. She's a redheaded sweetheart who works in a dentist's office and is always coming in late because her old clunker of a Studebaker is forever going on the fritz. In all fairness to the girl's intellect, she only bought a car after quite some long tire-kicking. In these lengthy negotiations, boyfriend Lynn Landury, the stony-faced ex-football coach who never learned to smile, helped her. But he knows about second hand automobiles, especially what they are worth and he guides Susan to a cream puff of a Cadillac that matches her hair, sort of. Last but not least member of this kooky cast is a golfing chick named Meg Muffin-Driver. In her stylish short-shorts and a sun visor she comes in a few strokes under par every time. Get a gander of her on the links with a number one wood in her shapely hands. And get a second take of her kissing Aztec Sam. You'd think she could attract a higher class of beau but it takes all kinds and in this movie, we have all kinds. Washington's General Alexander M. Haig has a cameo as an EPA man. He wears his green and blue uniform with a purple and gold cap and carries his fume detector around in his hands as he checks out the smog capabilities of all those dogs on the lot including a real but toothless canine by the name of "Growler" who tries to chase him off the lot. He gets an eyeful of Susan Shams but Landury keeps a close watch on her and poor General Haig never gets a fair chance to make his play. Too bad, General Haig baby. Want to know who produced this flick of the year? Well kids, it was none other than our own Helen O'Reith. The director was Sir George P. McDonough. Remember him? Well, if you don't, he hangs out with Helen O'Reith's husband usually in some faraway place that nobody ever heard of. But when he is in town, sometime you can catch a glimpse of him entering the garage of the Casinghead Tower in the tonneau of a Nile green Chrysler Imperial limousine with tinted windows. His traveling companion is that sweet little geologist Genevieve Ste Jacqueline the famous religious curiosity whose discoveries are frequently reported right here! One other point before we sign off fans. Except for General Haig, all of the players are Pentecostals. When not on the set at the Hal Roach 18-acre comedy farm, they hang out at Estes Park near Aimee Semple McPherson's Angelus Temple. On Sunday morning they can harmonize a spiritual without overwhelming the organ. So hurry on out and get a sack of popcorn and sit back for The Signal Red Cadillac. Next Sunday, go to church. Pray a prayer. Sing a hymn. You'll feel better and it will be good for you!