From Those Were the Days:

1931 - Little Orphan Annie, the comic strip character developed by Harold Gray, came to life on the NBC Blue network. About 5 decades later, the comic strip inspired a Broadway play and a movie, both titled, Annie.

1942 - We Love and Learn premiered on CBS Radio. The serial featured Frank Lovejoy as Bill, and would continue until 1951.

1945 - This is Your FBI debuted on ABC Radio. Frank Lovejoy from We Love and Learn had little problem finding work, as he served briefly as narrator for the radio crime drama.
8:24:52 PM    comment []  trackback []  

“Mr. Benny’s residence: star of stage, screen and radio—so whether you go out or stay home, he’s got you trapped…”

Jack Benny’s long radio association with Jell-O began in the fall of 1934 and ended at the sponsor’s insistence in 1942—not because the gelatin people were dissatisfied, you understand; Benny sold so much of the product that grocers often had difficulty keeping it on the shelves. But wartime sugar shortages severely curtailed Jell-O production, and so the General Foods folks switched the Benny program to Grape Nuts and Grape Nuts Flakes, two of just many products nestled underneath the General Foods banner. (Even though Jack was sponsored longer by Lucky Strike, more people continued to associate the comedian with Jell-O, years after his show had left the airwaves.)

In the fall of 1944, Jack signed with an aggressive new sponsor—the American Tobacco Company, who hired Benny to hawk Lucky Strike cigarettes. I place a tremendous emphasis on the word “hawk”—the company’s president, George Washington Hill, was a fervent believer of the “hard-sell,” insuring that every commercial on the program was repetitive, obnoxious and loud (“L.S.M.F.T” soon became part of the American lexicon, almost to the point of nauseam.). It is a tribute to the show’s writers that they were able to present the commercial-within-the-show in a consistently humorous manner (particularly once the Sportsmen Quartet was on board).

In the inaugural broadcast of the 1944-45 season (October 1, 1944), the show’s writers have a little fun referencing their previous sponsor:

JACK: What are we having for breakfast?

ROCHESTER: Huh?

JACK: I said, what are we having for breakfast?

ROCHESTER: If this was last season, I could mention it…

JACK: If this was last season, you’d have to mention it…

And then, it’s down to business. Perrin, Balzer, Josefsberg and Tackaberry have come up with a novel idea for the show: why not have Jack pay a visit to his new sponsor? He gets a phone call summoning him to the offices of the American Tobacco Company, and Mary suggests that they might want to speak to him about the progress in finding a replacement for Dennis Day:

JACK: You know, confidentially—I’ve been considering Bing Crosby for my singer…you know, he’s starting to get popular now…

MARY: Well, Jack, I don’t want to disillusion you—but you’re not going to get Crosby for $35 a week…

JACK: I wasn’t thinking of $35…

ROCHESTER: You ain’t gonna get him for what you’re thinking, either!

JACK: Oh, I don’t know…I don’t know…

MARY: Aw, Jack, what are you talking about…you can’t have Crosby—he makes thousands of dollars a week…

JACK: Well…say, maybe I could get his little son Larry—he sings, too…or for five dollars more, maybe I could get the twins…

MARY: Why don’t you wait another year—you might have more to choose from…

Day was forced to take a leave of absence from 1944-46 after enlisting in the Navy, and (yet another) tenor Larry Stevens was recruited to take his place in the interim beginning November 5, 1944. Though Stevens was popular with both the show’s cast and writers, his character never fully developed during his stint with the program, since it was understood that Day would eventually return (and did, on March 17, 1946).

Jack and Mary arrive for Jack’s meeting, and Hill informs his assistant that he’ll speak with Jack momentarily as he is in “conference”—he then addresses the individual to whom he has been speaking: “Now, as I was saying, your opinions interest me—I’d like to hear more of them.” And in response, we hear the unmistakable nasal tones of Fred Allen knifing his nemesis in the back: “Well, first of all, Mr. Hill—I don’t want you to think that I have anything against Benny personally…”

HILL: Mr. Allen—hearing you talk, I get the impression that you don’t like Mr. Benny…

FRED: Oh, I’m sorry I gave you that impression, Mr. Hill…I’m really very fond of Jack, he’s one of my best friends—it’s just that I…well, I hate to see him go back on the air and be a flop…

HILL: But…what makes you think Benny will be a flop? He always gets laughs…

ALLEN: Mr. Hill…anyone can get laughs who tells a joke, wiggles his ears, drops his pants and then shows a Bob Hope movie on the seat of his underwear…and with Benny’s red flannels, it looks like it’s in Technicolor yet…how could he miss?

HILL: Mr. Allen, I’m a businessman…I don’t care how a comedian gets his laughs…as long as he sells the product…and I think lots of people will sit by the radio, smoke a cigarette, and listen to Jack Benny…

ALLEN: Mr. Hill—that is an impossibility if I have ever heard one…smoke a cigarette and listen to Benny? How in the world can anyone smoke and hold his nose at the same time? It can’t be done…

Fred leaves Hill’s office through a side exit and Mary and Jack are ushered in. Some of Benny’s funniest moments on both radio and television involved him literally turning to jelly when confronting the sponsor, and he uses this opportunity to make a complete and utter fool of himself. Hill informs him that he has been talking with Fred, which naturally gets Jack’s haunches up and sets the scene for what follows:

FRED: Yes sir, Jack—it’s great being together again…

JACK: I’ll say it is…tell me, Freddy boy…what are you doing out here in Hollywood?

FRED: Oh, making a picture—I’m over at United Artists…

JACK: Oh yes, yes…I heard that Boris Karloff isn’t there anymore…

FRED: I know—and I heard that since you’ve been with Warners, the studio isn’t there anymore…

JACK: Now listen here, Allen…

MARY: Jack, Jack…it’s your own fault…you always have a chip on your shoulder…

JACK: I haven’t got a chip on my shoulder…

FRED: No, he’s right, Mary—that’s his head…his head looks like a knothole with skin on it…

JACK: That settles it, Allen—I’ve tried to be friends with you, but you won’t have it that way…I’d punch you right in the nose if there wasn’t a lady present…

MARY: I’ll leave, Jack…

JACK: You sit down!!! Now you listen to me, Allen…

FRED: And you listen to me, Benny…you’d punch who in the nose?

JACK: I’d punch you in the nose if it weren’t for your wife and children!

FRED: I haven’t got any children!

JACK: Then why aren’t you in the Army?!!

Both Mary and Hill attempt to referee the feuding, and Jack—in a fit of pique—yells at his sponsor to shut up, prompting him to babble profuse apologies as the orchestra plays up and out. It’s a shame that the only extant version of this broadcast is an AFRS broadcast (the one I listened to last night had one Lucky Strike commercial grafted on at the program’s beginning); I’m curious as to whether or not Terry Salomonson has the “full Monty” in his Phil Harris collection. Benny later reprised this show on television (one of my favorites) on April 19, 1953, with Allen returning as guest star and Eddie Cantor contributing a funny cameo.

After this episode, I listened to a humorous entry from September 30, 1945—the first broadcast from Jack’s 1945-46 season. It was an unwritten law in radio that the premiere show of the season was supposed to bring out the star comedian as quickly as possible, in order to demonstrate that he was still funny, even after returning from vacation. But Benny, the master of timing, takes his time with this broadcast, allowing his appearance to be delayed in order to let the listeners eavesdrop on a conversation between two NBC telephone operators, Mabel Flapsaddle (Sara Berner) and Gertrude Gearshift (Bea Benaderet):

(SFX: phone line buzzing)

GERTRUDE: Hello, National Broadcasting Company…

CALLER: Uh, say Operator…can you tell me what’s on the air at 4:00 today?

GERTRUDE: The Lucky Strike Program starring Jack Benny…

CALLER: Who?

GERTRUDE: Jack Benny...(SFX: gunshot) Gee, Mabel—that’s the sixth one today…

MABEL: Well, I’m still ahead…I’ve got eight…

GERTRUDE: Oh, you’re always lucky—you won last year, too…

MABEL: Yeah…Mr. Benny oughta know better than to open his program during the hunting season…

GERTRUDE: Yeah (phone line buzzes again) National Broadcasting Company…

CALLER: Say, Operator—can you tell me what’s on the air at 4:00 today?

GERTRUDE: The Lucky Strike Program starring Jack Benny…

CALLER: Who?

GERTRUDE: Jack Benny (pause) Hey, Mabel…

MABEL: What?

GERTRUDE: This one musta used a knife…

MABEL: Yeah—I’ll be glad when this day is over so I can go home and take off this black dress…

GERTRUDE: Yeah…and it’s so hard to talk through this veil…

This, of course, was Mabel and Gertrude’s debut appearance on the program, and it most certainly wouldn’t be their last—they were used frequently to great comic effect as the two women would snidely comment on Benny’s looks, cheapness, etc. (One of the all-time funniest Benny shows has Mabel and Gertrude double-dating with Jack and guest star Van Johnson; it is hilarious from start to finish.)

This program’s premise has Jack and the gang preparing for the first show of the season, and it contains many amusing moments (among them, Don forgets the Lucky Strike slogan “so round, so firm, so fully packed”) with a running gag on how no one knows the correct time due to Daylight Savings. There’s also a cameo by Edgar Bergen (and Charlie McCarthy) and an amusing jibe at Fred Allen (which Jack also turns on himself):

JACK: You know, Rochester—I’m really going to have to be on my toes this year…’cause there’s a great line-up of shows on Sunday…there’s Gildersleeve, and following us is Cass Daley, then Edgar Bergen & Charlie McCarthy…

ROCHESTER: You know, boss, Fred Allen’s gonna be with Edgar Bergen today…

JACK: Fred Allen? Is gonna be with Bergen?

ROCHESTER: Yeah!

JACK: What’s the matter, is Charlie McCarthy sick?

ROCHESTER: No, Mr. Allen’s gonna be a guest…and then next Sunday, he starts his own program…

JACK (disgruntled): Allen…his own program…how do you like that…Allen coming back on the air…you know, Rochester—it isn’t that I…dislike that stinker personally, but…I can’t understand why people laugh at his kind of jokes…

ROCHESTER: Me either, boss…

JACK: It’s a mystery to me why a sponsor would give him a job…

ROCHESTER: It’s hard to understand, ain’t it…

JACK: It certainly is…I can’t figure out why he’s such a big success…can you, Rochester?

ROCHESTER: No, sir…but then, boss—maybe it’s just that our vines have sour grapes…

This broadcast also introduces character actor Richard Lane in the role of Steve Bradley, Jack’s fast-talking press agent. Lane is best-remembered by classic film buffs as Inspector Faraday in the Boston Blackie film series at Columbia (he also co-starred in a series of underrated comedy two-reelers with Gus Schilling while there as well). Bradley’s staying power on the program was quite limited, but the character was responsible for “I Can’t Stand Jack Benny Because…”—the promotional contest that would jump start Benny’s anemic ratings.
8:21:41 PM    comment []  trackback []  

“…that lovable teenage girl who’s close to all our hearts…”

Most books on the subject of old-time radio have a tendency to classify teenager Judy Foster of A Date With Judy as a distaff version of Henry Aldrich. I’m not sure if I would agree with that; Judy was certainly more worldly that Centerville’s favorite nerdly son. She’d be much more likely to date Henry than be him—come to think of it, she pretty much did: boyfriend Oogie Pringle. (I wouldn’t be the slightest bit stunned to learn that the Pringle clan was an offshoot of the Aldrich’s family tree.)

A Date With Judy was created by veteran comedy writer Aleen Leslie, who had previously toiled at Columbia Pictures’ comedy shorts department (home to The Three Stooges, Andy Clyde, etc.) and had additional “teenager experience” on her resume writing for the likes of Deanna Durbin, Mickey Rooney and Paramount’s Henry Aldrich film series (hey, there’s an Aldrich connection!). The series was conceived with Leslie’s chum, actress Helen Mack, in mind—but Mack was forced to bow out after becoming "great with child." (Mack eventually came back to Judy, but as the program’s producer-director—the only one of her gender on radio in the mid-1940s.)

Instead, the role of Judy Foster went to 14-year-old Ann Gillis, a Bob Hope protégé, and A Date With Judy premiered on June 24, 1941 as Hope’s summer replacement. The sitcom did a second hitch as the comedian’s summer relief in 1942, with Dellie Ellis replacing Gillis; finally, in 1943, the actress best-remembered in the part—Louise Erickson—landed the gig as the show replaced The Eddie Cantor Show that summer. The series then achieved full-time status on January 18, 1944, running for the most part as an NBC staple until its last season, when it switched to ABC before bowing out May 25, 1950.

In the broadcasts that I’ve listened to, I’ve been struck by the fact while A Date With Judy isn’t the most sophisticated sitcom, the strength of the series lies in its acting; Erickson has always been a favorite of mine, her easily-identified, clear-as-a-bell voice enlivening many a sitcom, including The Great Gildersleeve (she played niece Marjorie Forrester from 1944-48) and The Life of Riley. (Erickson was on Judy as early as 1942, only she played the part of Judy’s best friend Mitzi then.) I’m also a big fan of John Brown (The Life of Riley, The Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet) who played Melvin Foster, Judy’s father, on the show beginning in 1944; Brown has this nice sardonic quality to his voice that sets Dad Foster apart from the other sitcom patriarchs in Radioland. But the crème de la crème of this group is the late, great Richard Crenna; while he achieved OTR immortality as Walter Denton on Our Miss Brooks, his Oogie Pringle was most assuredly King of the Dorks (“Boy, Judy, do you look sna-a-zzy!”). Other characters on the show included Dora Foster (Judy’s mother, played by a wide array of actresses but most notably Myra Marsh), Judy’s precocious kid brother (Dix Davis), and Mitzi, Judy’s gal pal and co-conspirator (future Mrs. Kravitz Sandra Gould).

In the first (an AFRS show dated April 3, 1945) of two broadcasts previewed by yours truly last night at the bane of his existence (that’s a job, son!), Judy is scheduled to interview actor Charles Boyer (“Hedy…Hedy…”) for her high school magazine. The matinee idol has been making a series of personal appearances on behalf of the Red Cross:

JUDY: Oh, Randolph—we’ll be there in a minute…maybe you better not say you’re my brother…he might think it’s funny, me having my brother with me…

RANDOLPH: Yeah, I’ll just say I’m your baggage man…

JUDY: Randolph, aren’t you excited? Aren’t you palpitating?

RANDOLPH: Nope—Charles Boyer doesn’t do a thing to me…

JUDY: He doesn’t? I think he’s divine…in the movie Gaslight when he said to Ingrid Bergman: “Get me the little picture”—I just quivered all over…

RANDOLPH: Hmm…that’s funny…not even my hand shook…

JUDY: Doesn’t any movie star make you palpitate, Randolph?

RANDOLPH (in a reverie): Only Margaret O’Brien…

JUDY: Really?

RANDOLPH: Yeah…she’s my dream woman…

JUDY: I wonder how Charles Boyer will react to me…I wonder if he’ll think I’m attractive…I wonder if I ought to flutter my eyelashes at him…

RANDOLPH: I wonder if they’ll fall off…

JUDY: Maybe I ought to take them off…maybe I ought to appear in front of him just a simple, unvarnished country girl…perhaps he prefers the simple, unsophisticated type…he must get so tired of looking at beautiful, perfectly groomed women of the world like Hedy Lamarr…

RANDOLPH: Oh, I’ll bet he sick and tired of looking at Hedy Lamarr…I should have that pleasure…

Unbeknownst to our teen heroine and her little bro, Boyer has had a reunion with an old Parisian friend (Joseph Kearns, whose Gallic accent is almost as good as Boyer’s real one) who’s asked his daughter to stop by and pay “Uncle Charles” a visit. So, in typically wacky sitcom fashion, Boyer mistakes the obviously non-French Judy for his friend’s daughter Nannette:

JUDY (sighing): It’s you, Mr. Boyer…

BOYER: Yes…yes, it is I…

JUDY: I mean, uh…c’est vous, Monsieur Boyer…

BOYER: Oh, it’s so good of you to come and see, ma petit chu…

JUDY: Who? Me?

BOYER: I’m so happy you are here…

JUDY: Jeepers! You are?

BOYER: Come here…come here where I can look at you more closely…

RANDOLPH: It’s a good thing you took those eyelashes off…

JUDY: Oh, this is…uh…my friend Randolph…

BOYER: Oh, how do you do?

JUDY: Uh…garcon, you know…

BOYER: Oh yes, I see…I see…

RANDOLPH: Glad to meetcha…

BOYER: Won’t you sit down, both of you?

JUDY: Thank you…

BOYER: So…the little baby…

JUDY: Are you speaking to me?

BOYER: You know, you are prettier than ever, my dear…

JUDY: I am?

BOYER: Still so graceful in every motion…and still with the curly blonde hair…

RANDOLPH: Oh, she touches it up a little…

Informed that Nannette is an aspiring opera singer, Boyer asks Judy if she will entertain at the Red Cross rally he’s due to speak at that evening in the high school auditorium. Judy decides to bypass La Traviata and settles on a ditty called “Bobby Sox Blues.” (Erickson isn’t bad, but I hope she wasn’t planning to try out for American Idol anytime soon.) Of course, Boyer eventually learns that he’s the victim of a case of mistaken identity and Judy is equally bummed out, feeling guilty that she’s cheated Nannette out of a great opportunity. Fortunately, Boyer arranges a scholarship for the budding diva (Nannette, not Judy) and everything turns out for the best.

The second broadcast, originally heard over ABC Radio on November 3, 1949, is also musically-themed: Mr. Foster has been driven to distraction by the fact that “Oogie Pringle and His High School Hot Licks” can only rehearse in the Foster’s garage—so he devises a cunning scheme, convincing Judy to get Oogie a radio gig with predictably hilarious results. The highlight of this show is Crenna’s rendition of the Date With Judy theme song, so if you’ll open your hymnals we’ll lay one down...

I’m not a wolf, I never flip, I do not flirt

I’m not the least chi-chi

I’m not a wolf, I’m just a drip, a little squirt

But there’s a beast in me

I’ve got a date with Judy

A big date with Judy

Oh jeepers and gee

I’ve got a date with Judy

And Judy’s got one with me

My heart is shootin’ rockets

There’s dough in my pockets

I’m high as a kite

I’ve got a date with Judy

And Judy’s mine for tonight

My manly lure, my wild amour

I’m holding in reserve

I cannot wait—to oscillate

But will I have the nerve

I’ve got a date with Judy

I’ve snagged one with Judy

Oh jeepers and gee

I’ve got a date with Judy

And Judy’s got one with me!!!

Thank you, and I hope we passed the audition. Judy Foster’s misadventures later became fodder for the silver screen in the 1948 MGM feature film A Date With Judy (my friend Amy is nuts about this picture, which stars Jane Powell, Elizabeth Taylor and Robert Stack) and was also one of the many radio-to-TV transplants, with a daytime series in 1951 starring Pat Crowley and a prime-time version from 1952-53 with Mary Linn Beller (and John “Ethelbert” Gibson as Melvin Foster).

Like many radio sitcoms of the Golden Age era, A Date With Judy comes across a tad dated to modern-day ears—yet it’s still enjoyable, with nearly thirty episodes extant today for fans to enjoy. (A standout episode is a March 20, 1945 broadcast guest starring Mr. Francis Albert Sinatra himself—Judy dreams that Frankie and Oogie have switched places as her favorite silver screen heartthrob and boyfriend. Uproariously funny, with Sinatra in particularly peak form.)
12:26:49 PM    comment []  trackback []