"I'll clip ya, Bergen...so help me, I'll mow you down..."

December 17, 1936: Rudy Vallee, star of NBC’s popular The Royal Gelatin Hour, announces a very unusual guest:

“Why—people have been asking me for the last two days—why put a ventriloquist on the air? The answer is, why not? True, our ventriloquist, Edgar Bergen, is an unusual one—a sort of Noel Coward or perhaps Fred Allen among ventriloquists, a dexterous fellow who depends more upon the cleverness and wit of his material than upon the make-believe nature of his delivery. Mr. Bergen works with a dummy—several of them, in fact—but this one is a typical ventriloquist’s dummy except that it is arrayed with top hat and tails. Just imagine a dummy and take my word for it that both voices you will hear are owned and operated by just one man—Edgar Bergen.”

Five months after that auspicious debut, Edgar Bergen—and of course, his dummy Charlie McCarthy—would become the stars of network radio’s number-one show, The Chase and Sanborn Hour. During his nearly twenty-year radio run, Bergen's show rarely fell out of the top five comedy programs, and he was, in fact, one of the very last of the big-time radio comedians to leave the airwaves.

Vallee’s introduction proved remarkably prescient in one respect—when you saw Bergen perform, whether on stage or screen, one thing became clear: he was not a particularly great ventriloquist. Indeed, Bergen himself would often emphasize the fact that he moved his lips by having Charlie constantly needle him about that handicap. What made Edgar so popular and successful, however, was his material; even today it sounds as fresh and as funny as it was back in Radio’s Golden Age.

A Chicago native, Edgar Bergen discovered his proclivity for ventriloquism at a very early age, often fooling his mother by “throwing” his voice outside the front door, and enjoying her bewilderment when she opened the door to find no one there. He paid a woodcarver $35 to make him a ventriloquist’s dummy, whom he modeled after a neighborhood boy who hawked newspapers—and lo, Charlie McCarthy was born. His talent was such that he was able to graduate from high school (Bergen was a poor student in history) with the tutoring help of a teacher who felt that the world would benefit more from his ventriloquism gifts than his scholastic prowess.

Bergen attended—but never graduated—Northwestern University, where he majored in pre-med; but the siren call of vaudeville soon lured him away from academics and onto “the sawdust trail.” Through diligence and perseverance, he worked his way up, finally landing a plum gig at the renowned Palace Theater in New York in 1930. But after returning home from a tour of Europe and South America, Edgar discovered what would become all too obvious to his fellow vaudevillians—vaudeville was dying out, and was being overtaken by sound movies and radio. He adapted by retooling and refining his ventriloquist act for nightclubs, and achieved great success in those venues. (In addition, he also made—with Charlie—a handful of one-reelers for Vitaphone during this time period, which would enjoy a renewed box-office popularity when they were re-released to cash in on his radio success.) It was at a party hosted by society doyenne Elsa Maxwell that Rudy Vallee caught his act, and the popular crooner extended an invitation to Bergen to appear on his show.

Bergen and McCarthy went over in a big way, so much so that they were brought back by Vallee for another thirteen weeks. It was then decided that the comedy duo would be part of the powerhouse talent lineup hired for The Chase and Sanborn Hour, debuting over NBC Radio on May 9, 1937. Featured with Bergen and his dummy were singer Nelson Eddy, actor-singer Don Ameche, actress-singer Dorothy Lamour and comedian W.C. Fields—truly big-time radio. Bergen and McCarthy soon established themselves as the most popular element of the show, and when the other performers’ contracts were up, the program was whittled down to a half-hour in 1940, becoming The Chase and Sanborn Program—or The Charlie McCarthy Show, as it was usually referred to by the radio audience. (Ameche would later return to the show in the mid 40s as a combination of performer-announcer-master of ceremonies, and Eddy was also a frequent guest.)

Fields was the first to leave The Chase and Sanborn Hour, departing after eighteen weeks on the program. But in that brief time-span, he and Bergen’s saucy dummy matched wits weekly to the enthused approval of the radio audience, and their encounters soon developed into a feud equal to those of Jack Benny-Fred Allen’s and Bing Crosby-Bob Hope’s. This feud no doubt reached its apex in 1939 when Edgar and his dummy appeared alongside Fields in The Great Man’s classic film comedy You Can’t Cheat a Honest Man. Fields would continue, until his death in late 1946, to make memorable guest appearances on the program; one of which is the subject of this review (and is, incidentally, his final appearance on the show).

The Charlie McCarthy character was one of radio’s most memorable brats; writer Sherwood Schwartz once colorfully referred to the dummy as “a fresh little bastard.” The Chase and Sanborn Program generally kicked off with an opening routine with Edgar and Charlie; the subject of which usually dealt with Charlie’s misadventures either in school or at home. In this March 24, 1946 broadcast, Charlie is heavily disguised in fake glasses and moustache after overhearing a policeman say “McCarthy’s the one we want.”

EDGAR: Now the first thing to find out is what they want you for…

CHARLIE: Yes…

EDGAR: Have you done anything wrong lately?

CHARLIE: Me?

EDGAR: Yes…

CHARLIE: Eh... (chuckling to himself) heh heh heh…(to audience) Naïve, isn’t he? I have been leading a normal life…

EDGAR: Normal…

CHARLIE: Yeah…so I must have done something wrong.

In addition to Charlie, Edgar featured another dummy on the program, Mortimer Snerd (added in the late 1930s). Mortimer was a simple-minded dolt who, it could be argued, probably wouldn’t be bringing potato salad to a Mensa picnic any time soon. His voice was very similar to Walt Disney’s Goofy, and in his routines with Bergen, the ventriloquist would often become flummoxed and frustrated with Snerd’s monumental stupidity. Here, Edgar notices that Mortimer has a few lumps on his face, which Mortimer explains happened as a result of his wondering what was in “those white boxes on your lawn.”

EDGAR: Those were bees!

MORTIMER: Huh?

EDGAR: I say, those were bees…

MORTIMER: Yup, yup, yup…

EDGAR: Did you hear a lot of buzzing?

MORTIMER: Yup, yup, yup…that’s what I heard…I thought it was in my head! That’s one on me (chuckling) yup, that’s the way it goes…that’s the way it goes and I got it!

EDGAR: Why…there are hundreds of bees in each hive…

MORTIMER: Yeah…

EDGAR: It looks as though they all tried to sting your face!

MORTIMER: Yeah…for a while I didn’t think I’d have enough face to go around…

At the show’s mid-point, announcer Ken Carpenter has some urgent news for Bergen:

KEN: Oh, uh. Edgar…I think I ought to tell you, W.C. Fields hasn’t shown up yet…

EDGAR: He hasn’t, Ken? Well, that isn’t like Bill…

KEN: Well, maybe he stopped off some place for a malted milk…

EDGAR: Well, that isn’t like Bill either…

The ventriloquist places a call to Fields’ house (BUrgundy-1928) and is informed by a real estate agent (Jack Mather, who would later achieve radio immortality in the title role of The Cisco Kid) that the comedian has been evicted and is currently residing in a sanitarium. Edgar and Charlie decided to pay their old nemesis a visit:

EDGAR: I guess Mr. Fields’ bungalow is right along here someplace…the even numbers are on this side…

CHARLIE: Yes…why that’s it, there! Look…even the number is lit up…

EDGAR: I’ll tell you what we’ll do, Charlie…let’s walk in and surprise Fields…

CHARLIE: Yeah…

(SFX: door opening)

FIELDS (singing) “Give me my books and my bottle…”

EDGAR: Hello, Bill!

CHARLIE: Hiya, Mr. Fields!

FIELDS: Halt…who goes there…friend or hypodermic?

EDGAR: Why…Bill…it’s us, Bill…

FIELDS: Fine thing…a man can’t even sit in own boudoir without being accosted by beggars…

CHARLIE: Shall I let him have it now, Bergen?

EDGAR: No no no no no…Bill, it’s your old friends, Edgar and Charlie…

FIELDS: Well, well…so it is…come in! It’s good to see you…

EDGAR: Well, thank you…

FIELDS: Well, Charles…I hear you got married and raised yourself a cord of children…

CHARLIE: I…I fear that isn’t quite true, sir…

FIELDS (muttering) You fear it isn’t quite true, sir…you fear (loudly) anything I hate, it’s a polite kid…

EDGAR: Ah, Bill…it’s good to see you again…how true that old proverb is…”Old friends, like old wine, are best,” huh?

FIELDS: Yes indeedy, Edgar, yes indeedy…especially the wine…

EDGAR: Bill, I was going to bring you a basket of fruit…but I decided to ask you first what you like best, then have it sent out…

FIELDS: Ohhhh…I like…brandied peaches…

EDGAR: Brandied peaches, yes…

FIELDS: They’re very nourishing…squeeze the peaches…save the juice…

(snip)

EDGAR: Say, I was told about your eviction, Bill…I’d like to hear your side of the story…

CHARLIE: Yes…we’ve already heard the truth…

FIELDS: That’s very good, my little chum…very good…very good…you know, Charles…many’s the time I wished you could be here to fill to that terrible vacancy…

CHARLIE: In your heart, Mr. Fields?

FIELDS: No…in my fireplace…

It is soon revealed that The Great Man has taken residence in the sanitarium due to his inability to secure alternate lodging arrangements. Fields asks Edgar and Charlie to keep it a secret, for his nurse (wonderfully played by veteran radio actress Verna Felton) is currently at the door:

NURSE (outside room): Hey, Fields! What’s going on in there?

CHARLIE: Who’s that? The warden?

FIELDS: Nah…that’s my medicated chambermaid…

EDGAR: Say, tell me, Bill…do you have a nice nurse?

FIELDS: She has the soul of an ice cube…now remember, boys…don’t expose me…I’m supposed to be a very sick man…

CHARLIE: Oh sure…sure…

(SFX: door opens)

NURSE: Oh, you’re sitting up, huh? Well, it looks like you’re just about well…

FIELDS (muttering) Isn’t she a tough dame? Frankly, Nurse…I don’t think I’ll…last…through the night…

NURSE: Good! Then I can rent this room out tomorrow…

EDGAR: That’s no way to talk…he’s a very sick man!

CHARLIE: Why, he’s within three fingers of death’s door…why, look…he’s shaking like a mint leaf…(to Fields) shake a little…

FIELDS: Ohhhhh…ohhhhh…water…water…what am I saying???

(snip)

NURSE: Fields! Why don’t you pack up and go home?

CHARLIE: He can’t go home, he was thrown out of there, too…

NURSE: Ohhh…so that’s it!

FIELDS: Why don’t you close your knothole, you talking totem pole…

CHARLIE: Why, you two-legged martini…

EDGAR: Now, Charlie…remember, we came here to extend the olive branch…

CHARLIE: What’s the use? He’ll only trip over it…

EDGAR: Now wait a minute…

FIELDS: One more crack…and I’ll nail some runners on your stomach and use you as a sled…

CHARLIE: You sleigh me, you…

EDGAR: Hey…Charlie…

FIELDS: Never been so insulted since the day I was born…

CHARLIE: Ah, you weren’t born…you were squeezed out of a bar rag!

Unlike many of the popular radio comedians, Edgar Bergen never made the successful leap to television—although he did dabble with a TV pilot or two, and later emceed Do You Trust Your Wife? (a game show that would later change its name to Who Do You Trust?, and would be hosted by a pair of unknowns--at the time, anyway--Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon) with Charlie and Mortimer. Perhaps Bergen instinctively knew he was strictly a “radio man”—and once you sample one of his broadcasts, the idea of a ventriloquist on radio doesn’t seem so silly after all.