We see in his broomstick posture and sentry eyes the isolated power that Carson would become. He feels extraneous on the stage, checking his watch and saying he has to catch a plane, and although he is not nearly the star at that point that Frank, Dino, or Sammy is, he isnвЂ™t grateful to play stooge to the gods. WhatвЂ™s interesting about the last segment, aside from the forced joviality of the racial horseplay, is CarsonвЂ™s surfacing irritation as the buffoonery (deliberately bad imitations of Jimmy Cagney, etc.) drags on too long. for this wonderful trophy.вЂќ Sammy, who had converted to Judaism, is hailed as the only Jewish Muslim: Irving X.

Dean lifts Sammy in his arms and says, вЂњIвЂ™d like to thank the N.A.A.C.P. Sammy mentions something about getting Martin Luther King Jr.вЂ™s permission to appear. The racial ribbing, though not as crass or persistent as the kidding on the Villa Venice CD, conveys the edginess of the civil-rights era. Dean amuses, Sammy is mahvelous, but only Sinatra, with his Manhattan-skyline voice, conjures a mood and a spell.ДЄfter SinatraвЂ™s set comes the usual Rat Pack foolery, some at DeanвЂ™s expense (вЂњThe only reason heвЂ™s got a good tan, he found a bar with a skylightвЂќ), but with Sammy as the primary butt. At one point, alluding to SammyвЂ™s set, he says that the song heвЂ™s about to perform makes for вЂњa slight duplication here, but I donвЂ™t think youвЂ™ll mind too much,вЂќ launching into his own rendition of вЂњIвЂ™ve Got You Under My Skin,вЂќ which he contours and tattoos as if romancing for the first time.

Frank Sinatra has been called great for so long that itвЂ™s easy to forget how great he is. And then thereвЂ™s Sinatra, confident, not the AdamвЂ™s apple on a stick he was or the barrel-chested belter he would become, cruising inside the luxury-limousine sound of the Count Basie band, not so much singing the up-tempo numbers (вЂњFly Me to the Moon,вЂќ вЂњYou Make Me Feel So YoungвЂќ) as riding them home, his rabbit jabs providing the punctuation to his cagey phrasing and eased-off vowels. ThereвЂ™s Dean Martin with his sleepy power, like a leopard in a smoking jacket, finishing his few songs with the words вЂњIвЂ™d like to do some more for ya, but IвЂ™m lucky I remembered these.вЂќ ThereвЂ™s Sammy Davis Jr., a gleaming revolver of a man, belting out a maudlin Anthony Newley torch song as if he means it, goofing around with вЂњIвЂ™ve Got You Under My SkinвЂќ (вЂњitвЂ™s a little lumpy, but youвЂ™re under my skinвЂќ), demonstrating the latest go-go dances (the monkey, the jerk, the frug, the mashed potato), and, in a final tour de force, doing quick carbon copies of Billy Eckstine, Nat King Cole, Frankie Laine, Mel TormГ©, Tony Bennett, and Dean himself. ItвЂ™s an opportunity to catch three of AmericaвЂ™s greatest showmen in their tigerish prime (with Carson along for the ride), before they became total legends and turned into leather. It has the glamorous wham of a championship prizefight. (A two-volume compact disc exists of the Rat Pack performing at the Villa Venice club in Chicago in 1962-a gig they were strong-armed into doing by the mobster Sam Giancana.) The Rat Pack kine-scope, found in a closet at the Dismas House, is more than a historical curio. The edited 90-minute version of the benefit-featuring Frank, Dino, Sammy, and Johnny-represents the only known full-length video of the Rat Pack in performance. A recently discovered kinescope of this bash-under the new title, The Rat Pack Captured-will be screened this month at the Museum of Television & Radio in New York and at the Los Angeles branch, and will also be broadcast later this year on вЂњNick at NiteвЂќвЂ™s cable channel. Joey Bishop was listed on the original program, but had to bow out when he вЂњslipped a disk backing out of FrankвЂ™s presence,вЂќ according to Carson, his replacement, who was only three years into his tenure as host of The Tonight Show. Sinatra said, вЂњBe there,вЂќ and they were there-Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Trini Lopez, Kaye Stevens, and an amalgamation of two different bands, including members of the Count Basie Orchestra, conducted by a lean cat named Quincy Jones. The year is 1965 the event, billed as a вЂњFrank Sinatra SpectacularвЂќ and broadcast on closed circuit to theaters across the country, is a benefit for Father Dismas ClarkвЂ™s Half-Way House for excons. вЂќ With these words of mock homage, an astonishingly young and lanky Johnny Carson introduces Frank Sinatra to the stage of the Kiel Opera House in St.

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