THE DAY COLONEL KLINK FINALLY LOST HIS COOL ON THE SET
Host: Werner, we have spent the last hour talking about your career in music and your father’s legacy, but we have to touch on the monocle. People still…
HOW RICHARD DAWSON FINALLY BROKE THE UNBREAKABLE SERGEANT SCHULTZ
I remember sitting on a stage in a drafty convention hall in the late nineties, leaning into a microphone that kept buzzing. A young man in the front…
THE DAY THE HELMET FINALLY SAW NOTHING AT ALL
The interviewer leans back in his chair, the studio lights reflecting off a small, grey, metallic object resting on the coffee table between him and his guest. He…
THE RADIO WAS FAKE… BUT THE MEMORY BROUGHT THEM TO THEIR KNEES
The sun was beginning to dip behind the soundstages at the old Desilu lot, casting long, skeletal shadows across the cracked pavement. It was a quiet afternoon, the…
THE DAY COLONEL KLINK SALUTED THE NEW YORK PHILHARMONIC
The lights in the studio were dimmed just enough to make the atmosphere feel intimate, like a conversation between old friends rather than a televised interview for a…
THE DAY THE COMMANDANT’S GUARD COULD NOT ESCAPE THE STALAG
The studio lights were always a bit too bright for my taste, especially in those later years when I preferred the quiet of my garden to the hum…
THE MONOCLE THAT BECAME A MISSILE IN A CHICAGO STEAKHOUSE
Interviewer: Werner, it is such a profound joy to have you here. I have to show you something before we continue. Our stage manager found this in a…
THE DAY COLONEL KLINKS MONOCLE DECIDED TO ESCAPE THE WAR
It is a quiet afternoon in a brightly lit television studio, the kind of space where the air feels thick with the smell of floor wax and expensive…
THE COMMANDANT AND THE SERGEANT WHO BROKE HIM
The studio lights were a bit softer than the ones Werner Klemperer had lived under for six seasons at Paramount, but the gaze he leveled at the audience…
THE TUNNEL WAS JUST A PROP UNTIL WE STEPPED BACK IN
The sun was hitting the old pavement of the studio lot in a way that felt like a trick of the mind. Robert Clary stood there, his hands…