March of 1943 found Jack Benny sidelined with a serious case of pneumonia—and his producers settled on a most unlikely choice for interim host: the one and only Orson Welles. Welles was no stranger to Jack’s program, of course—he had previously been a guest star on the March 17, 1940 broadcast, playing Jack’s “dramatic coach” and appearing in a spoof of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Benny scribes Bill Morrow and Ed Beloin created a humorously exaggerated persona for Orson, that of an omniscient and egotistical wunderkind that the actor referred to as “Crazy Welles” or “Imperial Welles”:

I used to play Orson Welles all the time on Jack Benny. That’s the Orson Welles everybody still thinks I am. The secretary used to atomize the microphone before I would speak into it. You know, a lot of people believed it. In other words, the comedy figure rubbed off on me…I regard it as an enormous and articulated marionette, which is standing in the hallway waiting for me when I am called to do a job. You know, it’s completely foreign to me—and the part of it that is like me. I don’t even recognize even though it’s there. You see, of course, there must be a lot there, but I don’t think there is, because it’s an inexpressibly exasperating personage.

With Benny show regular Verna Felton as his Gorgon-like secretary, Miss Harrington, Welles enlivened many a “missing Benny” broadcast, and the April 11, 1943 program finds Jack returned to his proper place on the show—although he’s struggling to get back into the pink, with some help from Rochester’s dosing of his cough medicine with gin. (When Jack remarks that he’ll leave the mixing of the cough medicine to the drugstore from now on, Rochester responds: “Okay, boss—but you’ll find very few pharmacists with the imagination I got.”) A rehearsal for that evening’s show has been scheduled at Jack’s house, and Mary is the first to arrive:

MARY: How do you feel, Jack? Do you think you’ll be able to make the show today?

JACK: I’ve got to…I can’t disappoint my public…just think, Mary—people have been deprived of hearing my voice for five long weeks…

MARY: You’d be surprised how fast they went…

JACK: Well, I’ll admit that Orson Welles did a pretty good job…

MARY: Pretty good? He’s one of the most polished performers I’ve ever worked with…

JACK: He is, eh…

MARY: He had the most beautiful speaking voice I’ve ever heard…

JACK: Oh, he has, eh…

MARY: Gosh, when he says (lowering voice) good evening…this is Orson Welles…(squealing) I get goose pimples all over!

JACK: I don’t care if you break out in billiard balls—he’s no better than I am!

Then Phil makes his entrance (“You look like you went to the blood bank and forgot to say when,” he cracks to Jack) with a little gift for his ailing employer:

PHIL: Say, Jackson—I got a surprise for ya…Alice Faye, now appearing in Hello, Frisco, Hello, made a dozen doughnuts for you with her own little hands…

JACK: A dozen doughnuts? Where are they?

PHIL: Out in the car—I’ll get Rochester to help me carry ‘em in…

With his cast present and accounted for, Jack begins to demonstrate the insecurity that was such an indelible part of his character’s nature (Dennis doesn’t help matters any by commenting: “Gosh—The Orson Welles Show without Orson Welles…I worry about things like that.”) and the fun begins with the arrival of Miss Harrington and Orson:

JACK: Now as I was saying, fellas—Don introduces me, then I come on…

ORSON: Ah, pardon me—there doesn’t seem to be a chair here…

VERNA: What? No chair? Mr. Welles doesn’t have a chair!

MARY: Oh my goodness! Here, Orson—take mine!

DON: No, Orson—take my chair!

DENNIS: Take mine! It’s got a pretty cushion on it!

PHIL: Take my chair, Orson—it’s peachy…

JACK (exasperated): Here, take the bed! I’ll go out and hang on the clothes line!!!

Towards the end of the program, Welles commits THE cardinal sin of broadcasting: mangling the sponsor’s message, which leads to ad-libbing hilarity during the commercial. As things turn out, Orson will have to fill in again for Jack after his doctor, instead of an aspirin, gives him a sleeping pill by mistake. Welles’ comedic gifts would later resurface on the short-lived 1944 series Orson Welles’ Almanac and in guest appearances with Edgar Bergen & Charlie McCarthy and Fred Allen (one of the funniest Allen broadcasts features Orson and Fred in a version of “Les Miserables”).

The second program on this Ultimate Jack Benny Collection CD was originally heard over NBC November 28, 1943, and is notable for the absence of Mary Livingstone, laid low with a case of “laryngitis.” Truth be told, Mary was often a no-show on many Benny broadcasts, owing to periodic bouts of “mike fright”—and on this occasion, Barbara Stanwyck (a personal friend of Mary and Jack’s) is on hand as a substitute. (Both Stanwyck and Alice Faye would often find themselves coming off the bench to be “second-string Marys.”) Babs uses her patented piss-and-vinegar tough gal persona to good effect here, delivering Mary’s lines with a great deal of comedic bite:

DON: By the way, did you see Jack?

BARBARA: Yes, he’s out in the hall talking to Dennis…I heard Dennis asking him for a raise…

DON: Yes, yes, I know…the kid tried to get a raise last week but…now he’s willing to compromise…he only wants half as much…

BARBARA: If I know Jack, he’s holding out for unconditional surrender…that’ll go on for weeks…

DON: Ah, but you certainly got to admire Dennis…his motto is: “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again…”

BARBARA: Well, Mary tells me he doesn’t stand a chance, ‘cause Jack’s motto is: “If at first you don’t get it—you just don’t, brother…” I feel sorry for the boy…

(snip)

BARBARA: Say, Phil—did you ever ask Jack for a raise?

PHIL: Yeah, but I had to cut it out—it’s habit-forming…

BARBARA: Oh…well, anyway, Phil—you got no kick coming…you’re doing all right, aren’t you?

PHIL: Yeah, but what am I gonna do if Alice quits workin’?

BARBARA: You’ll be out in the hall where Dennis is…

Meanwhile—out in the hall—Dennis continues to negotiate with the “wily and parsimonious” Jack in one of the funniest routines I’ve ever heard on the show—which I unfortunately had to edit severely here due to its length. I get the feeling that both Benny and George Burns (see below post) attended night school classes taught by Bud Abbott:

JACK: Now look, Dennis…you’re getting thirty-five dollars a week, aren’t you?

DENNIS: Yes, but I’ve got a cousin who makes forty dollars a week and he’s a shoe salesman…

JACK: All right…all right, your cousin makes forty dollars and he’s a shoe salesman…that means he has to work every day in the week for it…now, you don’t work Monday, do you?

DENNIS: No…

JACK: You don’t work Tuesday…

DENNIS: No…

JACK: You don’t work Thursday…

DENNIS: You forgot Wednesday…

JACK: Yeah, Wednesday…

DENNIS: No…

JACK: Now, look—you don’t work Friday and you don’t work Saturday…the whole week is almost over, and you haven’t worked yet…

DENNIS: Gee…I’m a bum…

(snip)

JACK: You see, Dennis, your song only runs two minutes…and for that, you get thirty-five dollars…that’s $17.50 a minute…now, there’s sixty minutes every hour…and twenty-four hours a day…seven days a week…hmm…that’s $7.50 a minute…

OFFICER (interrupting): Mr. Benny, it’s against the rule to write on the walls…

JACK: Oh…oh, I’m sorry, Officer…you can erase it…

OFFICER: I haven’t finished erasing your argument with Kenny Baker yet…

JACK: Oh…well, I’ll do it myself…now there you are, Dennis—there are 10,080 minutes in a week…and since you get $17.50 a minute, that means you’re being paid $186,000 a week…

DENNIS: Oh boy! Am I loaded!

JACK: Yes, sir--$186,000…you know what that amounts to a year, kid? $9,672,000!!! What do you think of that, kid? Huh?

DENNIS: And my cousin’s been snubbing me…

In later Benny broadcasts, of course, Dennis would emerge the victor in his battles with Jack, driven to exasperation by the tenor vocalist’s Gracie Allen-like “illogical logic.” So his turning the tables on Dennis is funny stuff (asked as to whether he got his raise, Dennis sneers “Who needs a raise? I can’t count the dough I’m makin’ now!!!”). Meanwhile, Phil has a separate grievance of his own:

PHIL: Well, it’s about last week’s show—I didn’t have no dialogue…gee, and Alice had our little baby sittin’ by the radio to hear her Daddy’s voice…

JACK; Well…she heard her Daddy’s music, didn’t she?

PHIL: Yeah, and when I got home she bit me…

Character actress Butterfly McQueen (Gone With the Wind, Mildred Pierce) is introduced on this show as Rochester’s niece, and she would appear on the program for a short time as Mary’s maid (she’s interviewed by Stanwyck on Mary’s behalf). McQueen was replaced soon after by radio veteran Doris Singleton as Mary’s new domestic, Pauline.
9:48:19 PM    comment []  trackback []  

George: "If it weren’t for Gracie, I could figure my income tax out much easier…" Bill: "If it weren’t for Gracie, you wouldn’t have any to figure…"

The more Burns & Allen radio shows I listen to, the more I remain convinced that the husband-and-wife comedy team did their best work during Radio’s Golden Age. Of their many broadcasts, the ones that feature guest stars are my personal favorites, but since this Radio's Greatest Sitcoms CD doesn’t showcase any big names I had to settle for mirth from George & Gracie alone. The first show, originally heard over NBC (as Maxwell House Coffee Time) on January 15, 1948, finds George struggling to complete his and Gracie’s tax return, with Gracie all-too-eager to help:

GEORGE: Now let’s see…figuring our income on the basis of the community property law…that would make, um…

GRACIE: What law, George?

GEORGE: The community property law…that’s the California law that says half of everything I’ve got is yours, and half of everything you’ve got is mine…

GRACIE: Oh? Then how come I only get one-fourth of the money we make?

GEORGE: Well…that’s the way it works out, dear…look, I’ll show you…here in my hand is a dollar in change (SFX: clinking coins)…

GRACIE: Yeah…

GEORGE: Now, half of everything I’ve got is yours…so here’s fifty cents…

GRACIE: Ah…thank you…

GEORGE: Now half of everything you’ve got is mine—how much have you got?

GRACIE: Fifty cents…

GEORGE: Half of it is mine, hand it over…there…see how it works?

GRACIE: I see who it works…now let’s try that again, and this time I’ll start with a dollar…

GEORGE: Okay…

GRACIE: Now…half of everything I’ve got is yours…so here’s fifty cents…

GEORGE: Thank you…

GRACIE: And half…uh…how does the second part go?

GEORGE: Half of everything you’ve got is mine…how much have you got?

GRACIE: Fifty cents…

GEORGE: Half of it is mine…hand it over…

GRACIE: Here…

GEORGE: Thanks…

GRACIE: Oh…you were right, George—it comes out the same way no matter how you do it…

GEORGE: Well, sure…

GRACIE: Ah, I’ll bet you get tired of me being so stupid, huh?

GEORGE; Well, sometimes it comes in real handy…

After George gets through showing Gracie that seven times thirteen does equal forty-two, Gracie demonstrates how comedy comes in threes:

GEORGE: Now, let me figure some of the income tax deductions…let’s see, business expense…

GRACIE: Now what does that mean?

GEORGE: Well, whenever we have a guest star on our program, we always take him to dinner…that’s a business expense…let’s see—now, we took Cary Grant to dinner…

GRACIE: But he paid the check, remember?

GEORGE: Oh yeah—that’s right, he did…well, we took Bing Crosby to dinner…

GRACIE: He paid the check, remember?

GEORGE: Oh, that’s right…well, last week we took Jack Benny to dinner, huh?

GRACIE: That’s one for us…

Frustrated by all the figuring, George sends Gracie downtown to a tax preparer with fifty dollars to pay the expert to complete their return. In the real world, things would proceed according to plan—but this is a sitcom, so Gracie decides to pocket the $50 and fill out the return herself. The revelation that she and George will be receiving a refund of thirty million should tip you off as to the accuracy of her calculations in what is a delightfully funny outing. Next up, a February 5, 1948 broadcast that features as its premise Gracie’s desire for a mink coat:

GEORGE: Now, Gracie—ever since we got home from the store you’ve been after me for a fur coat…(Gracie is sobbing) the answer is still no (more sobbing) ah, now you’re turning on the tears (even more sobbing) I suppose I’m a brute…I suppose I treat you like a dog…

GRACIE: No you don’t…

GEORGE: Of course not…

GRACIE: The dog has a fur coat…

GEORGE: Will you stop?

GRACIE: Oh, everyone has fur but me…cats have fur…rabbits have fur…and you have three hairs on your chest…

GEORGE: Four…

GRACIE: Think of my health…buy me a fur coat so I won’t have to go around shivering in the snow…

GEORGE: It doesn’t snow in Los Angeles…

GRACIE: Then buy me a fur coat and a ticket to New York…

GEORGE: I refuse to discuss it any further…

GRACIE: Well, I read in the paper about a woman who caught pneumonia just because she didn’t have a fur coat (she coughs) she caught pneumonia and died (she coughs again) better have your black suit pressed, George (more coughing) marry again, but not too soon…remember me a while (still more coughing) and George…take my insurance money and buy yourself a fur coat…I don’t want you to go the way I’m going (reaching Camille status now) Forget it, huh?

GEORGE: Forget it, forget it!!!

The program culminates with George agreeing to get Gracie a rabbit coat, providing he can shoot the rabbits to cut down on the cost—so a hunting trip is arranged, with announcer Bill Goodwin, maestro Meredith Willson, psychiatrist Dr. Miller (Hans Conried) and obnoxious Texan neighbor Mr. Judson (Gale Gordon) in tow and providing sure-fire hilarity. Elliott Lewis and Verna Felton also appear in this episode, and there’s a great moment—demonstrating just what was so fantastic about live radio—in which George muffs a line and attempts to cover to the accompaniment of Gracie and Hans’ laughter. Gotta love George & Gracie.
9:48:01 PM    comment []  trackback []