From Those Were the Days:

1932 - The thrill-comedy, Joe Palooka, which was also a popular comic strip, made its debut on CBS Radio.
11:06:33 AM    comment []  trackback []  

“If I had to choose only one bit as being the funniest, that’s the one I would have to pick…”

The title of this particular Jack Benny post comes from a line the comedian wrote in a letter to Hank Grant of The Hollywood Reporter; Grant had requested that Benny contribute what he (Jack) thought were some of the most memorable bits on the program. Now, I’m not entirely convinced that this is the funniest of all of the Benny show gags, but you certainly can’t argue with the fact that it got a bigger audience response than the celebrated “Your money or your life” joke. To set the scene, announcer Don Wilson—whose character on the show often served as sort of a “know-it-all”—is discussing opera with this broadcast’s guest star, singer Dorothy Kirsten of the Metropolitan Opera:

DON: Oh, Miss Kirsten—I wanted to tell you that I saw you in Madame Butterfly Wednesday afternoon and I thought your performance was simply magnificent…

DOROTHY: Well, that’s awfully kind of you, Mr. Wilson—but who could help singing Puccini? It’s so expressive, particularly the last act starting with the allegro vivacissimo…

DON: Well, that’s being very modest, Miss Kirsten, but not every singer has the necessary bel canto and flexibility of the range to cope with the high tessitura of that first act…

DOROTHY: Well, Mr. Wilson—didn’t you think in the aria “Un Bel Di Vedremo” that the strings played the con molto exceptionally fine, with great sostenendo?

JACK: Well, I thought…

MARY: Oh, SHUT UP…

I clocked the response (and I could be off a second or two, because I didn’t have a proper stopwatch) at about twenty-two seconds, which is not too shabby, laugh-wise. Why it received the response it did is still a head-scratcher, unless folks were so used to hearing Verna Felton (as Mrs. Day) say it to Jack so often (although she put a little more “oomph” into it: “Ehhhhhhhhh shut up!”) that when it came out of Mary, it was just that much funnier.

This April 25, 1948 broadcast finds Jack newly returned from two weeks in Palm Springs, and as he's having breakfast, Rochester pulls down the shades in the kitchen, for fear that Ronald Colman will spot Jack and learn that he has returned home:

JACK: He’s still mad about my losing his Oscar, isn’t he?

ROCHESTER: Mad? Yesterday he came over and got one of our lawnmowers…

JACK: Well…that’s all right…

ROCHESTER: I know, but he mowed half his lawn before he put the flag down on the meter…

Jack, of course, has to find some way to get to the studio, since it’s Sunday—and Rochester suggests that he don the outfit he wore in the 1941 comedy Charley’s Aunt:

JACK: Rochester, how do I look in my Charley’s Aunt costume?

ROCHESTER: Well, let me see…you’ve got the wig on straight, and your curls tumble down over your forehead in a tantalizing manner…

JACK: Thank you…thank you, Rochester…

ROCHESTER: Your mascara is just heavy enough to accentuate the blue in your eyes…

JACK: Good, good…

ROCHESTER: Uh…your lips have the red glow of a summer sun as it slowly sinks into the peaceful Pacific…

JACK: Well!

ROCHESTER: And your…uh-oh…

JACK: What’s the matter?

ROCHESTER: You better pull up your shoulder strap…your hair on your chest is showing…

Jack makes his way down the street (Mary has been told by Rochester to meet Benny at the corner) and bumps right into Ronnie—who, not recognizing his nemesis, helps him across the street (“Well, thanks again, Mr. Colman—you’re my favorite Oscar…I mean, actor! You’re my favorite actor!”) Jack climbs into the back seat of Mary’s car, who finds his charade a bit ridiculous:

JACK: Come on, Mary, let’s go…

MARY: Jack! You’re not going to the studio dressed as Charley’s Aunt, are you?

JACK: No, no, Mary…I have my suit on underneath…I’ll slip the dress off while you’re driving…

MARY: No…no, Jack…don’t take it off…I want to remember you just the way you are…

JACK: What?

MARY: …the way your curls tumble down over your forehead in a tantalizing manner…

JACK: Say! Rochester said the same thing!

MARY: …and your mascara is just heavy enough to accentuate the blue in your eyes…

JACK: That’s funny—he said that, too…

MARY: …and your lips have the red glow of a summer sun as it slowly sinks into the La Brea Tar Pits…

JACK: Mary…

MARY: I’ll bet he didn’t think of that one…

Arriving at the studio, Jack runs into his all-around voice-man, Mel Blanc:

MEL: Hello, Jack—are you gonna use me on your show today?

JACK: No…no, Mel…I spent too much money in Palm Springs…maybe next week, huh? So long, Mel…

MEL: So long! (in Porky Pig voice) Th-th-th-th-that’s all folks!

JACK: Gee, he’s a clever guy…it’s a shame he won’t work cheaper…

After supervising a run-through with Dennis’ song, Jack, Phil and Dennis are joined by Mary, who’s just got back some snapshots taken during their stay in Palm Springs:

MARY: Here’s a picture of me taken near the pool in my bathing suit…

PHIL: Hey, lemme see that, Livvy…

MARY: Here you are…

PHIL: Well scudda hoo, scudda hay! (laughs) Say, that’s really a gorgeous bathing suit…

MARY: Oh, it’s nothing…

JACK: That he can see…believe me…

MARY: …and Phil—here’s one of Jack in his bathing trunks…

PHIL: Let me have a peek at that…(laughing) oh no…no…oh, no…no…

JACK: What are you laughing at?

PHIL: You look like a spider with four legs missing…

JACK: All right, Phil, you can stop fizzing…

DENNIS: Say, Mary—can I see that picture of Mr. Benny?

MARY: Here you are, Dennis…

DENNIS: Gee…I don’t know what Phil was laughing at…

JACK: Thanks, kid…

DENNIS: …for a spider you look pretty good…

At this point in the proceedings, Don brings out Dorothy Kirsten, the guest—who will sing on the show, accompanied by the Sportsmen Quartet. Jack asks Don what this will cost him and when Don whispers the amount in his ear, he blanches and remarks, “She gets more than Mel Blanc!” But it’s money well-spent, Kirsten and the Sportsmen do a Lucky Strike commercial to the Quartet from Riggoletto; one of the most memorable of the Lucky Strike parodies (and also one of the most controversial: several hundred opera fans wrote in letters of protest over its bastardization).

The second Benny Program broadcast that I listened to last night was originally broadcast the following week (May 2, 1948); it begins with announcer Wilson offering nothing but effusive praise for his boss Benny. Yes, you guessed it—it’s option time for the cast, and Don has raised an objection or two:

JACK: Anyway, the raise I offered you is as high as I can go—now what do you say?

DON: I can’t sign the contract now, I’ll have to talk it over with the little woman…

JACK: Oh, you and the little woman…haven’t you got a mind of your own?

DON: Yes! But I respect my wife’s opinion…I’m very devoted to her…

JACK: I see…

DON: After all, I’m at home with her every day except Sunday…

JACK: Well, I can fix that, too…

Dennis has sent in a note announcing that he’s going to be a no-show (his mother won’t let him appear until she’s had an opportunity to discuss his new contract with Benny) on the program, so Don suggests that Jack ask Frank Sinatra to help out, seeing as Frankie is in a nearby studio rehearsing for a special. Mary goes on over and after Sinatra rehearses But Beautiful, Mary explains the reason why she’s there:

MARY: Say, Frank…I came over to ask you to step over to our studio…Jack would like to see you…

FRANK: That’s a coincidence…I was just goin’ over to see him myself…yeah, I’m a little peeved at him—he’s ruining my singing on the Hit Parade…

MARY: Well, I don’t understand…how could Jack hurt your singing?

FRANK: I can’t hit those high notes anymore…he puts too much starch in my collars…

MARY: Oh…well, that’s Rochester’s fault…Jack’s specialty is rough-dry…

FRANK: Well, that isn’t my only complaint, Mary…yesterday, my bundle of laundry came and two of my handkerchiefs were missing…and they were the handkerchiefs Crosby gave me for my birthday…

MARY: Well, how do you know they were the handkerchiefs Bing gave you?

FRANK: They had chloroform on them…

Jack and Frank haggle over Sinatra’s fee for singing on the show, with Jack naturally wanting something a little…oh, cheaper (Frank: “Well, for ten bucks, I can blow my nose in C-sharp…”) and Rochester calls Jack to remind him that Sinatra has an Oscar, which he won for the 1945 short The House I Live In:

JACK: Gee, I wonder if he’d lend it to me…

ROCHESTER: He might, if he hasn’t thrown it away…

JACK: Now why in the world would he throw an Oscar away?

ROCHESTER: Could be jealousy—it weighs more than he does…

Before Jack can get Frankie to agree to the loan of his Oscar, however—Sinatra is sucked up into a vacuum cleaner by a studio janitor. (Yeah, I thought it was pretty lame, too.) The story arc of “the stolen Oscar” would finally reach its denouement in the following week's show (May 9, 1948), by the way. As it turns out, Ronnie’s irritation at Jack’s constant borrowing forced him to hire the “crook” responsible for holding Jack up—he’s none other than the Colman’s faithful chauffeur, meaning that the statuette has been with its rightful owner all along.
10:53:47 AM    comment []  trackback []  

“Atsa funny thing—when I’m-a say it, itsa come out different…”

I recall one sleepless Sunday afternoon some time back where I put on a few episodes of the radio sitcom My Friend Irma, hoping that they would lull me towards lullaby land. No such luck. I listened to about six shows—about three hours—before I was exhausted enough to conk out. In listening to these programs, I couldn’t help but notice that they all seem to suffer from a stifling, cookie-cutter sameness; I thought perhaps that it might be because I was listening to them all in one sitting, as opposed to how they probably should be listened to, once a week. But now I’m not so certain that it's not the handiwork of the show’s creator-producer Cy Howard—because I’ve detected it in his other hit sitcom, Life With Luigi, as well.

I previewed a couple of Luigi broadcasts last night, the first originally heard over CBS Radio March 27, 1949. It’s spring, and Luigi’s fancy has turned to thoughts of love, a subject he takes up with his friend and fellow night-school classmate, Schultz (Hans Conried):

LUIGI: Schultz, donna spring meana nothing to you?

SCHULTZ: Sure! Dot’s ven I defrost der izebox! Ah ha! I got it…Luigi, in schpring, you should go out vit a girl…

LUIGI: Oh, please-a, Schultz…

SCHULTZ: Oh, schtop…you’re going out vit my cousin Volfgang’s daughter Mathilda…sure, sure…zis Zaturday night, you’re taking her to der movies…

LUIGI: But-a, Schultz…I’m-a never take a girl to the movies…

SCHULTZ: Oh, Luigi—it’s der zame thing like going by yourzelf…only ven you go vit a girl, you don’t look at der picture…

LUIGI: But-a, Schultz—why should I go if I’m-a not gonna enjoy myself?

SCHULTZ: Schtop dat, Luigi, schtop…now here’s Mathilda’s telephone number…go ahead, call her up right avay und take her to der movies zis Zaturday…

LUIGI: No, Schultz…thanks, but I’m-a think I maybe not-a go…

SCHULTZ: Schtop dat, don’t put it off…remember—he who hezitates never gets to der movies before the prizes shange…

Back at his antique store, Luigi (J. Carrol Naish) is telling his good friend and fellow countryman Pasquale about his big plans:

LUIGI: Thissa Saturday, I’m-a gotta date with a girl!

PASQUALE: Ho ho! Oh, Luigi…I’m-a so glad to hear this…you finally gonna go out witha my daughter Rosa, eh?

LUIGI: No…I’m-a goin’ out with a girl…

PASQUALE: Whatta you think Rosa is? (quickly) Don’t answer that! Luigi, why you donna go out witha Rosa?

LUIGI: She’s-a too fat…

PASQUALE: Fat, fat-a, fat! Everytime we talk abouta Rosa, thatsa all you canna say…

LUIGI: Thatsa all I canna see…

PASQUALE: You wanna go out witha girl thatsa skinny, like a toothpick? You go outta with Rosie you gotta nice armaful…

LUIGI: I’m-a go out witha Rosa, I gotta nice roomaful…

Pasquale, who only purpose in life is to get the reluctant Luigi up the aisle and manacled to the more-than-amply proportioned Rosa (Jody Gilbert), volunteers to set up the date between Luigi and Mathilda. Since the restaurateur has the same scruples as one George “Kingfish” Stevens of Amos ‘n’ Andy fame, he tells Mathilda that Luigi wants to take her dancing instead. Luigi discovers this subterfuge only a few hours before the date, so Schultz suggests that he take a dance lesson at Arthur Murray. Armed with a few pointers, he accompanies Mathilda to the dance—but finds himself way in over his head when the band strikes up a jazzy jive number, and the girl takes Luigi out on the dance floor for some wild jitterbugging.

Now, in every episode of Life With Luigi—usually when Luigi was heartbroken or at the end of his rope—Pasquale would attempt to right things by calling for daughter Rosa: “Oh Rooosssa…Rooosssa…ROSA!” This would be Rosa’s cue to come a-running, greeting Luigi with a squeaky giggle: “Hello Luigi!” But the writers of this episode had a little fun with this weekly convention:

PASQUALE: Heh heh heh…where-a you think? I’m-a gotta just the girl…she also happens to be passin’-a by…

ROSA: Papa, you want me?

PASQUALE: Not-a yet! Wait ‘til I calla you…(calls) Rooosssa…

ROSA: Now?

PASQUALE: No! (again) Rooosssa…

ROSA: Now?

PASQUALE: No! Canna you play hard to get? (third time) ROSA!

ROSA: Yes, Papa?

PASQUALE: Rosa—say ‘allo to Luigi…

ROSA: Hello Luigi!

LUIGI (resigned to his fate): Hello, Rosa…

The second show, from November 29, 1949, shakes up this running gag also, with hilarious results. Luigi is out collecting money in the neighborhood for funds to build a recreation center. Pasquale, who’s the wealthiest man in that particular borough, is the lone holdout; he’s bitter because all his life he’s had to work, scrimp and save—so why should he kick in when no one’s ever done him a good turn?

So Luigi extracts a promise from his friend—if someone performs Pasquale a kind favor, Pasquale has to contribute to the fund. Luigi and his night-school class chums—Schultz, Olsen (Ken Peters), Horowitz (Joe Forte) and teacher Miss Spaulding (Mary Shipp)—all pool their money in order to allow Luigi to buy Pasquale a Mario Lanza record. It just so happens that Lanza is making a personal appearance in the store on the day Luigi makes his purchase, and in procuring an autograph, he tells the actor-singer the story about Pasquale. Lanza promises to pay a visit to Pasquale’s Spaghetti Palace, and although there’s a temporary mix-up, communication-wise, Lanza keeps his appointment and Pasquale is touched—and how, he's talked into ponying up two hundred dollars for the rec center fund. Pasquale’s scheming brain then starts a-turnin’ as he realizes that Lanza would make a better son-in-law than Luigi (“Rooosssa…”) and when Rosa makes her entrance, Lanza responds in the same dejected way as Luigi.

My favorite thing about Life With Luigi is the Pasquale character; Alan Reed (the future voice of Fred Flintstone) really seems to be having a ball playing this delightful comic villain who occasionally allows listeners a glimpse (can that be done on radio?) into his fairly-concealed heart of gold. This broadcast also features a cameo at the end by Gracie Allen, who approaches announcer Bob Stevenson (Gracie assumes he’s the one who wrote Treasure Island) and asks if her husband, “Sugar Throat” Burns, can sing on the program. This interesting ploy to promote their recent move to CBS can also be heard on the December 1, 1949 episode of Suspense (“Mission Completed,” with Jimmy Stewart) and the November 26, 1949 episode of The Adventures of Philip Marlowe (“The Birds on the Wing”).
10:53:34 AM    comment []  trackback []